Caving Under Pressure 2nd in the FS series
by Ms-Maggs
Summary: 2nd story in the Feasibility Study series:GS,GOC,NOC,CW romance,angst,comedy.GS hope for success,Greg gets the shock of his life and then the pressure really builds. Complete
1. Default Chapter

**Author's Note: **

Caving Under Pressure is the 2nd series in the Feasibility Study series (Before FS was pulled and reworked,it was posted as FS Chapters 21-28). It picks up directly where Feasiblity Study Chapter 20 left off. It is 8 chapters long and all 8 are posted. All cast: GS, GrOC, CW, NOC,BrassLH. Romance, angst and comedy.

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**Caving Under Pressure - Part 1 **

**August 3,** 1** 2005 (Day 103)  
****Crime Lab  
****6:07 a.m. **

Walking to the locker room, Sara hoped it would be empty when she arrived. Over the last couple of days, instead of the gossip about her and Grissom fading, it seemed to take on a whole new life.

With accidental pregnancy ruled out as a reason for the surprise marriage, the grapevine gang had to formulate a new juicy theory. And not just any theory would do, they needed one to satisfy their urge for scandal.

The latest speculation…poor Gil Grissom, the lonely scientist, was snagged by Sara Sidle who sensed his vulnerability and played him like a fiddle to get him to marry her. Apparently, there was already a betting pool available to place wagers on the day she would rip out his heart, file divorce papers and pocket her fifty percent share of his assets.

As with any gossipy theory, she knew people would believe it until disproved. But, while it was easy to show she wasn't pregnant, Sara was having a hard time figuring out a way to discretely prove she loved her husband with all her heart. It's not like she could profess her feelings on the PA system without embarrassing them and discrediting them professionally. And, even if she did, it seemed like no one would believe her because words are just words and people lie all the time.

Things were also worse because Nick was back and she no longer received the protection a supervisory role provides. Her team members weren't reporting to her anymore, they were equals, and with the exception of Jas, they were all ruthless when it came to one-liners and digs. And even though he wanted to help, there wasn't much Nick could do other than reiterate that while he didn't require his team members to like each other, they had to respect each other on the job.

Try as she might to let it roll off her back, Sara recognized the signs of caving under pressure. At work, her smile had faded, the bounce in her step was gone, and instead of looking forward to coming through the door every day, she was starting to dread it.

"Morning, Sara," Nick warmly greeted as he caught up with her in the hall. Checking his watch, he asked, "Are you here early to impress your new boss, or to sneak a little extra time with your old boss?"

"Little of both plus, I like to get here before night shift is leaving and before the Days people arrive. Less of a chance I'll be sharing the room," She informed him as she cautiously entered the locker room. "See…no one is here."

"I wish I could…"

"It's okay." She opened her locker. "You didn't create the problem, we did, and anyway, you can't fix it. People are going to believe what they want to believe. I'm sure you remember that from your stint under the scandal microscope."

"With Kristy? Yeah…" He reached for his ID and clipped it on his shirt. "That took about six months to die down. Only thing that got me through was I knew the real story. Just like you know the real story of your life _and_…you know you have friends that do too."

"Thanks." Deciding to change the subject, she forced a sunny tone. "How's life as a fiancé going?"

His glum mood evaporated. "Awesome! Fantastic!" He closed his locker. "We set a date."

"When!"

"February 11th."

Beaming, he took a seat on the bench and Sara joined him.

"We're going to have it here in Vegas." He winked. "Don't tell her I told you but, that's why Carrie is taking you out to lunch next week. She's asking you to be in the wedding."

"Really?" Now that was something to smile about. "I've never been in a wedding. Well…I guess I would have had to have friends in order to be asked."

"You have a bunch now," He reassured her. "And Carrie needs you as a friend just as much as you need her."

"Thanks, Nick." She appreciated the nice sentiments before walking out the door to face the gossip hungry hoard.

"We met with a realtor last night," He excitedly announced. "We're going to start looking for a house." Elbowing her, he teased, "It won't be in your neighborhood though, because the mini-mansion Grissom bought to keep you happy is well beyond my means. As is most of the stuff he let you buy for it!"

By the time he finished his statement, Hodges was standing in the room. "Good morning!" And what a glorious way to start a new day…a fresh tidbit to inject into the vine…Grissom bought a mansion to bribe Sara to live with him.

Nick knew the damage was done. "Let's go, Sara. We have to work on the Culver case." He got up from the bench and exited the room.

Sara took a deep breath and held her head high as she passed Hodges, determined to act like nothing happened. "Good morning."

"Yeah, I bet every morning is a good one when you're living at the Grissom Estate rent free."

"You're an ass, Hodges." She snapped while walking through the door.

He called after her. "Wait, don't I get to say what you are now?"

In the hallway, Nick shook his head. "I'm the ass. I can't believe I said that at work."

"It's fine." Deciding laughter was the best means of survival, she informed her concerned friend, "I'm uh…going to see if my Sugar Daddy is in his office because I need lunch money for today."

Happy to hear her laughing, Nick whispered in her ear. "Is he going to make you earn it, Boom Boom?"

"Every evening between six and nine p.m." Her laughter strengthened. "Is there a departmental policy against having a second job?"

Continuing the playful banter, they strolled to Grissom's office. And once there, Nick announced, "Hey, Gris, look who I found loitering in the hall…your wife."

Removing his glasses, Grissom relaxed in his chair. "Thanks for escorting her through the minefield." He was expecting her five minutes ago and was worried she was getting cold feet.

Sara walked over to the desk. "Ever since Nick returned from Texas, he's all, _can I help ya li'l lady_." Turning around, she cracked, "Feel free to mosey along, Cowboy. I've got business to attend to and I don't want an audience."

"Yes, ma'am, but don't be late for work." He shut the door behind him to give the newlyweds as much privacy as a glass walled office and a department full of voyeurs would allow.

Sara sat on the edge of the desk. "He is such a hard ass compared to you, Honey."

"Did you say 'he _is_ such a hard ass compared to me' or 'he _has_ such a hard ass compared to me'?

Cocking her head, she asked, "Have you rescheduled your hearing evaluation yet?"

"I was making a joke." He narrowed his gaze. "But to answer _your_ question, my inquisitive wife, it's next Tuesday, which coincidentally is your day off."

"Good. I'll personally escort you."

"I assumed as much."

"Enough small talk." Gushing with excitement, she pushed up her sleeve. "Let's get down to business." It was eight days since they first made baby-making love in Colorado Springs, which meant it was test day.

As Grissom opened his desk drawer to pull out the syringe and a vial he stored earlier, Sara watched over her shoulder for any spies.

"Ready?" He asked as he unwrapped the syringe.

In a jittery voice, she replied, "For the blood draw? The result? Or the next nine months?"

Smiling, he tossed his glasses on and prepared. "Just the draw."

"Then yes." Grabbing a report file, she held it up with her free hand to block the secret activity. "OW! Jeez!" The sudden stab of the needle startled her. "Greg is much better than you! He's got a very gentle poke."

"Yeah…definitely a phrase I never need to hear again." Watching the vial fill, he sighed, "In the last five minutes you've compared me to Nick and Greg, I really hope you have no plans to bring up Warrick unless you're comparing his knowledge of Entomology to mine."

"Honey, thanks for making me laugh while I'm a nervous wreck." She placed the cotton ball he handed her in the crook of her arm and taped it, before pulling down her sleeve.

Grissom capped the vial and stuffed it in his jacket pocket. Then he topped the syringe and handed it to Sara. "You toss this in a sharps container and I'll meet you in the lab."

Biting her lip, she whimpered, "I wish we weren't doing this here, because I really want to be in your arms while we're waiting. I'm feeling a hundred different things right now."

"We talked about this. You said you didn't want to wait until less sensitive tests could detect…."

"I'll meet you in the lab." She slipped off the edge of the desk and disappeared out the door.

I guess that means she's not changing her mind, he thought, as he hurried out of his office. She's certainly been more moody in the past two days, so maybe this will give us a positive result.

In the hallway, Greg immediately slammed into him.

"Sorry, boss." Greg looked up from his file. "I was immersed in my work. Make note of that for my evaluation, okay?"

"Right now, I'm making note that you're standing on my foot."

"Oops." Greg stepped to the side.

No longer trapped, Grissom continued to the lab where he saw Sara already waiting in the empty room.

"Fancy meeting you here." He walked over and immediately began the process. "I know we've talked about this at length but…"

"I know!" While droning the rest of the speech like a robot, she paced behind him. "Even though we've been at it every day during what should be the critical fertility window there are no guarantees it worked. On the other hand, even if the test shows zero hCG, it doesn't mean I'm not pregnant. It just means that it didn't work in Colorado. It could have happened after we got home, in which case today wouldn't be day eight. My cycle last month was forty days, not the normal twenty-eight. This month it could be less, it could be more, we don't really know because I might not be regulated yet. Remember, the doctor said it could take three months before I'm ovulating consistently."

"You really do remember everything I say." Turning to her, he set the timer down on the counter. "Now we're just waiting."

"Yep." Wringing her hands she joined him at the counter. "Just think, this time last year we were avoiding each other, and now we're standing here waiting to see if we're having a baby."

With their backs to the door and the high counter providing cover, Grissom reached out, taking Sara's hand in his. "Four minutes."

Suddenly, Catherine's voice startled them.

Releasing each other's hands they stood straight and turned around.

"If it isn't Mr. and Mrs. No Personal Time Together." She strutted across the room. "Are you trying to steal a moment? Sorry, I need to check my experiment, so either three's company or take a hike."

They exchanged tense glances before shifting their eyes to the timer…three minutes.

"You two ever think of meeting for lunch?" Opening the fume hood, she grabbed her container. "Sara, I know you've worked through lunch for years, but you are technically supposed to take one, and Gil, you're available during the day." Working at a fevered pace, she continued to talk. "And, if you're looking for a place to _have lunch_, may I suggest Monty's Motel down the street…excellent ambiance. Or so I've been told."

Two minutes. In perfect symmetry they folded their arms across their chests.

Looking up, Catherine groaned, "Did I interrupt a lovers' quarrel? Because normally you would have at least told me to shut up by now."

"No. We're not fighting." Sara shook her head. "We're uh…we're just tired."

Grissom nodded in agreement.

"How can you possibly be tired?" Chuckling, she returned to her experiment. "You're never together long enough to get tired. Maybe you need to add a home gym to Casa Grissom. Build up your stamina."

One minute.

It wasn't like they had the liberty to wait all day. Once the test was complete, the results had to be read within two minutes or the integrity of the test is breeched.

"Catherine…" Sara was prepared to grovel. "Do you really have to do that right now, or could you maybe come back in five minutes and work on it? We were uh…kind of in the middle of something here."

Craning her neck, she looked at Grissom. "Boss? You want me to drop what I'm doing?"

"Uh…"

The timer sounded.

In a panic, he answered, "Immediately."

Peeling off her gloves, Catherine sauntered over. "Are you positive?" She jested. "Oh wait…I think that's why you're asking me to leave, so you can find out." Tossing her gloves in the trash, she made a beeline for the door. "Good luck and if it's not positive, remember, you can always try, try again!"

Once again alone in the room, Grissom took Sara's hand. "We'll look together."

Nodding, she gripped his hand tighter. "Ready."

The result was as plain as day…a big fat zero.

"Zero?" The excitement drained from her body and all she wanted to do was curl up in his arms.

"Sorry, Sweetie." Her disappointment flashed in her eyes like a neon sign and he was dying to hold her. "We can test again in few days."

"Yeah." After taking a moment, she said, "It was so perfect that night in Colorado, it would have been nice if it was attached to that memory."

"Knowing our history of bad timing, we'll conceive when we have the worst sex ever."

A scant smile formed. "Then I look forward to the lackluster loving."

"Am I supposed to say, 'me too'?" Pointing to his watch, he chided. "Hey, you're going to be late for work and your hard ass boss will be looking for you."

As she walked behind her husband to leave, she lingered her hand on his back. "I'll see you at home."

"Unless you want to meet at Monty's Motel _for lunch_."

Busting out laughing, she said, "I really think that could be where we have the worst sex ever, because I'd be so worried about germs I know I wouldn't be focused."

Just then, Nick popped his head in the door. "Did you get your lunch money, Boom Boom? Because it's time for the team's morning pep rally and I need your sunny disposition to counteract the sour ones."

"You need money?" Grissom asked.

"Actually, yeah, the ATM was down at the bank when I drove to work this morning."

He pulled out his wallet and plucked out a twenty. "That's all I have on me."

Unfortunately, Nina Birch showed up at the open door to speak with her boss just in time to catch the financial transaction.

Nick, dying to make up for his previous blunder, yelled at Grissom, "You should have had more faith that Carrie would say yes this soon." Turning to Nina he explained, "Sara bet him twenty bucks that Carrie and I would be engaged by the end of July. Gris thought December."

Waving the bill, Sara crossed the room to join her team mates. "I'll buy you a burrito today, Nick, since you had everything to do with my winning." Winning this point against Nina Birch, who was already formulating a list of one-liners about how I earned this twenty. "I can't wait to start shift," She announced in the sunniest tone, which she knew irritated the hell out of her perpetually crabby co-worker.

After they left, Grissom began disposing of the test evidence.

"How's the rabbit?" Now that her five minutes were up, Catherine waltzed back in the room.

"Alive and well," He replied in a deflated tone.

"Congratulations, now you get to keep trying." She took a seat at the table and resumed her work. "Where did that rabbit saying come from anyway? I'm sure you know, Mr. Encyclopedia."

As he went about his business, he answered the question. "In 1927, medical researchers discovered that if a pregnant woman's urine was injected into a rabbit, the hCG in the urine caused ovarian changes in the rabbit. A common misconception is that the rabbit keeled over in a reaction to a pregnant woman's urine, but lived if the urine was from a woman wasn't pregnant. In reality, the rabbit didn't die from receiving the urine at all. It died when it was cut open by the doctor to determine if there were ovarian changes."

"So, the rabbit died regardless if the woman was pregnant or not."

"Yes." He rinsed his hands in the sink. "So saying the rabbit died or lived is technically inaccurate, but everyone does it anyway."

"EPT must have been invented by a rabbit loving PETA activist." While jotting notes, she groaned, "In my more irresponsible days I would have had the blood of a few unnecessary rabbit deaths on my hands. I had some pregnancy scares. Easy to do when you have no recollection of how you spent the previous night."

"Was Lindsay…" He immediately stopped his question. "Sorry, that's none of my business, I can't believe I…"

"Oh come on, you know I'm high-disclosure. That's why we work…I'm yin to your 'lack of sharing' yang." Her face lit up. "Besides, that's a good memory, and not one I'd share with Warrick, so I'll share it with you." Tossing her hair off her shoulder, she laughed, "I mean finding out I was pregnant is a good memory, not the conception…although that was good too but, I'll spare you the details."

Curious, he took a seat next to her at the table.

"I did the test, and then Eddie and I sat on the bathroom floor waiting for the minutes to pass so we could check the result. We were both scared shitless about being parents." A bittersweet smile found her lips. "When we saw the line, we both screamed, and he pulled me into his arms saying, _we're having a baby, Baby!_ God I loved him so much in that moment. Our future seemed so bright. We talked for hours about raising our kid, had a cute argument over names, he fed me ice cream and pickles in bed, it was a crazy day…a beautiful day, and when Lindsay was born eight months later, everything seemed right in the world." Shaking off the memory, she looked at Grissom. "But you know the ending of the fairy tale. We didn't fare so well."

Listening to her, he wondered if his own parents had a similar story. Were there brilliant moments of happiness prior to the devastation? Was he one of those moments, like Lindsay was for Catherine and Eddie? Unfortunately he was too young to recall any good times. "Does Lindsay know how happy you and Eddie were back then?"

"Yeah, I remind her of that all the time because I don't want her to think she was unwanted, or that my feelings for her father later on in life were I how I felt when she was conceived. It's important that she knows she wasn't the reason we got married or divorced. On the contrary, she was the best thing about our union."

"Good." He turned his eyes to the floor.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to bum you out." She patted his arm and in her trademark manner, lightened the mood. "You and Sara will live happily ever after because, let's face it…you're both neurotic nut jobs and aware that you're lucky to have each other, because who else would want you. That kind of desperation keeps people together."

"Thanks." He appreciated her point buried in the insult.

"Just promise me when you do have a kid, you'll let him or her do normal stuff too." On a roll, she kept laughing. "It's a given that any progeny of you and Sara will be an uber-geek but, maybe if Aunt Catherine spends a little quality time coaching the kid, he or she will stand a chance of going to the prom as well as Harvard."

Teasing back, he replied, "If we have a boy, definitely, if we have a girl…doubtful."

"I don't blame you." Watching his eyes, she grinned proudly. "Once, years ago, I told you to lift your head out of your microscope and look how far you've come. You're married and trying to become a daddy."

"Yeah."

"Damn I'm good!" She boasted. "If it's a girl I really think her middle name should be Catherine."

**Tawny's Apartment  
****8:35 a.m. **

As planned, Greg showed up on his waitress-by-day/stripper-by-night girlfriend's doorstep with breakfast.

"Hi, Greggy," she greeted in a sullen tone.

"What's going on?" She looked totally bummed, which was highly unlike her normally perky self.

"Come in and I'll tell you." She walked inside her studio apartment and plopped down on the pink and black leopard print blanket covering her bed.

Greg followed, setting down his box of Krispy Kremes on top of the TV and taking a seat next to her.

"I'm late."

He checked his watch. "But your shift doesn't start until ten-thirty. Did they call you in?"

"Not that kind of late, Sweetie." She ran her red acrylic tipped fingers through her hair. "I was supposed to get my period two days ago. It's always day 27. Always. Today is day 29 and it's a no-show."

"Oh." Greg felt the blood drain from his face. "You mean you could be…"

"There was that one time we…"

"Oh god." The Walgreens incident. When he and Grissom got hit on, he left the store without purchasing anything, assuming Tawny would have supplies. In the heat of the moment, when it turned out she didn't…

"I bought a test, but I was too scared to do it until you got here." She shivered. "I really have to pee so I'll go do it and be right back."

"Um…" The deafening thump of his heart made it barely possible to hear his words. "Okay…I'll uh…be right here." I'll be right here because I am completely paralyzed with fear and unable to move! Oh my god! I can't believe this is happening. How could I have been so…oh I know how I could have been so…just look at her…we were drunk…I was so pent up…oh my god! I can hear my grandmother Enid's voice…Greggy when you move to Vegas don't get a stripper pregnant. Oh no! My grandmother is known for her psychic ability. She was foreshadowing this! Okay okay…calm down. Assuming Tawny is…I can't even say the word. Assuming she is, how do you even know it's yours? She's a stripper who hit on _Grissom_ to be her Sugar Daddy for crying out loud. She doesn't have standards! Okay, but I can't ask her if it's mine, because she's implying it is. It would be rude to challenge her and I'm a nice guy. Yeah…a nice guy who has unprotected sex with a stripper! Oh my god! I'm a _very stupid_ nice guy! I think I'm going to faint.

"All done." Tawny took her seat again. "Three minutes. You want to keep track?"

"Uh…" Lifting his shaking hand, he set the timer on his watch. "Okay…three minutes."

"You uh…wanna watch TV?" She grabbed the remote from the bed and started surfing through the channels.

"S..sure." Staring straight ahead, he watched the channels flipping while his life passed before his eyes.

"Wedding Story. I love this show." She was grateful for the distraction and thankful it wasn't Baby Story.

Gulping for air, Greg checked his watch. One minute of freedom left. In one minute Tawny was going to say she was pregnant and apply to be on Wedding Story. My parents are going to love this. At least Sara won't have to worry about being the office gossip anymore. Greg knocked up a stripper and their wedding is going to be televised should definitely plunge her and Grissom from the Top Scandal spot.

The beep of his watch signaled the end of three minutes and life as he knew it.

"Can you check it?" Tawny pleaded. "I mean, you do work in a lab."

"Uh…" But that would require me to move, and I don't think I can because all the blood in my body is now pulsating in my head. I'm hoping for a stroke inducing coma actually. That way when my parents kill me I won't feel a thing.

"Please." She batted her doe eyes. "I'm too scared."

"Okay I'll…" Releasing his vice grip on the blanket, he propelled himself up and began his death march to the bathroom.

"Am I?" Tawny jittered.

"Well…" Greg came out of the bathroom holding the test and the instructions in his trembling hands. Letting his inner lab-geek take over, he spoke more calmly. "The test is negative but, the instructions say false negatives can occur if you test before the hCG level is greater than 50 mlU. 50 mlU usually isn't reached this soon after a skipped period, which means there is still a possibility that you are. This isn't a very sensitive test."

"It was the cheapest one."

"Yeah."

Returning to the bed, he sat down and took Tawny's hand. "I can uh…take a blood sample and run it at the lab. Our equipment is much more sensitive and we'd know for sure." Because waiting to find out will definitely cause me to stroke out…most likely a positive test result will as well.

Sniffling, she nodded. "Okay."

**The Grissoms'  
****9:15 a.m. **

When Grissom took a seat in his home office, he saw a piece of paper on his desk with the words, _To my husband_, written on it. When he flipped it over, he saw Sara had written a note.

_If you're reading this, you're home, and we've already done the pregnancy test. _

_Because we did the test at work, I'm sure we didn't get too emotional, and I'm sure I didn't tell you what I wanted to say. So I'm going to tell you now. _

_In your top right desk drawer, you'll find two envelopes, one says positive and one says negative. Pick the one that matches the result we got this morning and only read that one. _

_Pretty elaborate, huh? Can you tell I have a lot of free time at night? I also baked you oatmeal cookies and did all the laundry. I think I was hoping a real domestic display would be good mommy karma for test day. I know, Mr. Biology, it doesn't work that way, but hey, you got clean underwear out of the deal so be quiet! _

Elated by the gesture, he opened his drawer, pulled out the envelope marked negative and removed its contents.

On the card were three words written in bold red marker…_ **I love you!** _Belowthat, in blue pen it said,_ In case you're curious (Ha! When aren't you?), the other card says the same thing, because no matter what happens with this endeavor or any in our life together, the end result will always be the same…I love you. _

_Are you missing me right about now? _

Holding the note, he reclined in his chair. "Yes, I am."

**Crime Lab**

**9:32 a.m. **

While Tawny waited in the car, Greg hustled inside the building to grab the necessary blood collection supplies. In his haste, looking over his shoulder, he crashed into Sara, who was on her way to the Ladies Room.

"What the! Greg, where's the fire? What are you doing here anyway? I thought you had a date with your favorite stripper girlfriend." Grinning, she teased, "Run out of dollar bills?"

"I…I was worried I forgot to turn off a burner in the lab." He scurried away, panting like a dog on a hot summer day.

Continuing on to the Ladies Room, Sara thought, ever since Greg got in the good graces of Grissom, he was trying so hard to keep up the good work and not let him down. It was really kind of sweet. Almost a father/son type of thing. A smile crested on her face. Grissom was going to be a terrific dad one day.

When she opened the door to the Ladies Room, her smile faded. There was Nina Birch with her purse contents splayed on the counter, applying thick layers of make up. Nick was sending her to the courthouse for a meeting with the DA, so obviously she was preening.

Ignoring each other, Sara proceeded to the nearest stall. Twenty seconds later, she realized Nina wasn't the only disappointment she'd encounter in the bathroom. The pregnancy test was negative and not just for today, but for this month. Last month it took forty days, this month twenty-one. Last month they tried too early, this month they tried too late. Story of our lives…out of sync every time!

Once out of the stall, she washed her hands and then headed for the dispenser, fully aware that Nina was watching her every move. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the twenty Grissom had given her this morning. Damn it!

"I know you probably like it when daddy gives you big bills but, you really should hit him up for some change once in a while."

"This isn't a good time, Birch." Her emotions building, she didn't want to say something she'd regret. She was already surprised she had called Nina by her correct last name.

"Don't think I'm doing this because I like you." Grumbling, Nina reached into her purse, produced two quarters and slapped them on the counter. "I owe you for the Rickert case."

"Fifty cents? Is that the price for evidence leading to a murder conviction these days?" Begrudgingly, she took the coins.

"Guess you really aren't preggers." Nina fluffed her long blond hair.

"No, I'm not." Sara retrieved her purchase, waving it in the air. "Make sure you tell all your cronies, I bought a tampon."

Laughing, she said, "I'll make sure it gets in the next departmental newsletter."

"Do you realize I could have nailed your ass over the Rickert case but I didn't? I gave you a chance to fix it and save yourself."

"And I gave you fifty cents, now we're even." She started packing her purse. "Besides, you only did that in the hopes of getting me off your back."

"Is that what you really think?"

"Why else would you have?"

"Teamwork. Because like it or not, I'm on the Days team and I don't want to see us fail."

"We're never going to be one big happy family like Nights." She tossed her purse over her shoulder. "It's not in our blood."

"Whatever!" She wouldn't give Nina the satisfaction of seeing the pressure of nasty gossip, unfriendly team mates and no baby getting to her, but in the safety of a bathroom stall, she lowered her head in hands and let out a few hormone-induced silent tears.

**Crime Lab  
****Parking Lot  
****9:42 a.m. **

When Greg slid the needle out of Tawny's arm, she smiled. "You're much better at that than the people who work at the HIV testing center."

"What!" As if the pressure building in his head wasn't already at a precipitous level, the last thing he needed to hear were those three letters in that specific order. "How uh…how often do you go there, and how worried should I be?" He was wearing latex gloves to do the blood test but just realized that safety precautions might be a little too late.

"Not worried at all. I have a clean bill of health." Glumly, she held the cotton ball he gave her on her arm. "About two years ago, this guy took advantage of me on a date and well…I kept going back to get tested just to be sure." A dash of offense peppered her voice. "Hey, just because I'm a stripper doesn't mean I'm loose. I never fly without a net…except this one time and well…that was only because you told me you had a trust fund so, I figured if anything happened you'd take care of me or I could sue you and get your money for child support."

Stuffing the vial in his pants pocket, he cringed, remembering the line Grissom fed him to feed Tawny. _My ex-girlfriend was a stripper. I loved her something awful but she dumped me because I liked watching romantic movies. I thought my generous trust fund would have been enough to keep her around but I guess money doesn't matter to some women. Gosh, I'm so lonely. _This is all Grissom's fault! Okay, that's an exaggeration. He started it. If only he hadn't taken me to Tweeters that night. Ugh! Grissom feeds me the right words to land a buxom babe and now, in some cosmic twist of fate, she may be pregnant with my baby. This is all like Cyrano meets Melrose Place meets the Twilight Zone. "Okay…uh…I'm going to run in and do the test. It will be about twenty minutes probably before I get back."

"That's too long to leave the car running in this heat, so how about I head around the corner and wait for you at Starbucks?"

"Okay." Greg threw open the car door.

"Hey, Greg?" Tawny walked over to him. "How worried should I be about you because you were the one who showed up for a date without protection?"

"Nothing to worry about." He took her hand. "It was the first time in my life I was ever irresponsible about…this."

"Okay." She let a smile out. "Then what are the odds of me getting pregnant on the first time both of us make our first mistake?"

"Million to one." He patted his pocket. "I need to get this going." I need to get it going before I suffer a cardiac episode right here in the parking lot. "I'll meet you at Starbucks."

A man on a mission to preserve his lifestyle, Greg dashed toward the building, praying for the first time in many years.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

**Caving Under Pressure – Part 2**

**August 3, 2005 (Day 103)  
****Crime Lab  
****9:50 a.m. **

Sweat dripping down his face, Greg bolted into the lab, knocking over a cart in the process. "Damn it!"

"What the hell is going on with you!" Sara demanded when she saw him worked up like a madman. "It's 117 degrees out there today and you're running in and out of the building like a nut. Look at you, you're drenched. Relax already, you turned the burner off, I checked it myself when I came back from the Ladies Room just to cover your ass."

After righting the cart and shutting the door, he broke down. "I screwed up, Sara. Big!"

Seeing the terror in his eyes, she dropped what she was doing and came to his side. "Which case? How bad? Can it be fixed?"

"Not a case…my life!" Nearing hyperventilation, he asked, "Where is everyone?"

"Everyone else is out working something. I'm here doing paperwork."

"Good." Frantically, he ran his fingers through his sweaty hair. "I need help."

"Okay, calm down. Whatever it is, I'll help you." She rested a hand on his shoulder. "What's the problem? Gambling? Drinking? Drugs? What?"

"Tawny!"

"Tawny? She's what this drama is all about? You had a fight with your girlfriend of _three weeks_ and your life is over?" Her eyes rolled so hard she almost fell over from the force. "That's not the end of the world, Greg. I know she's a hottie with big boobs but, aren't you being a bit melodramatic? If she meant anything to you, you wouldn't be dishing juicy details about her to the guys." Walking away, she groaned, "There are a dozen strip clubs within a mile of here, I'm sure you can find another plaything."

Taking Sara's hand, he frantically pulled her to the back of the room. "We didn't have a fight." Reaching into his pocket he produced the vial of blood. "She's late. She may be pregnant. I need to test this. She says she's_ never_ late."

Any problem would have been welcome except this one. "Please tell me you're kidding."

"Do I look like I'm kidding!" He checked his reflection in the stainless steel cabinet in front of him. "An hour ago, my biggest dilemma was which flavor donuts to buy. Now I'm four seconds away from total hysteria! I can't believe this is happening. I went to her apartment for our daily romp and she springs this on me!" Clutching his head, he gasped for air. "Sara, the room is spinning!"

"What the hell were you thinking!" Reaching for a set of gloves, Sara snipped, "How could you sleep with her without using something? You just turned thirty, not sixteen! Trust me…I understand what it's like to be a late bloomer, but this is ridiculous." She snapped on the latex along with an attitude. "Give me that, you're in no condition to do this yourself." She snatched the vial out of his shaking hand. "You should be worried about more than just pregnancy. Do you know how many HIV cases I saw while working in the morgue in San Francisco? If you saw what I saw…damn it! She's a stripper and, knowing this town, she could be more. Do you any idea what her sexual history is? Greg, my god, how could you be so irresponsible?"

"She assured me that's not an issue." His knees giving out, he scrambled for a stool.

"You've known her three weeks, Greg! From what Grissom told me, she hits on any man with a wallet!" Her cramps merged with the knot in her stomach sending a wave of nausea through her. "How do you know she's not lying about testing clean?"

His voice trembled, "Because she told me she has proof, and because she…she was just as scared as me. She was concerned maybe I gave her something. I could see it in her eyes, Sara. She's telling the truth."

"There's one lucky break. But, if I were you, I'd ask to see the proof." She finished prepping the sample. "Okay, here we go, let's see if you get two lucky breaks today."

Just three hours ago, she and Grissom were in the same room frantically hoping for a positive pregnancy result only to be disappointed by a negative one. Now here she was with Greg, running the same test while he rocked like a basket case praying for a negative result. How sad that some pregnancies are dreaded while for others it's a dream. It made her wonder what her parents felt when they discovered her existence. Was it a dream come true? Or was she an accident, never meant to exist? Worse yet, was she the cause of the downward spiral of their relationship into darkness? They were questions to which she'd never know the answers.

"How many more minutes?"

"Um…three." Seeing sheer fright in his eyes, her anger dissipated. "Greg…I'm sorry for yelling. I see you're a nervous wreck. I…I was just worried about you. You saved my life. I don't want you to lose yours. Besides, I'm getting used to having a pseudo kid brother. I care about what happens to you because I've lost enough in my life that I can't afford to lose anymore."

Swallowing the bile in his throat, he squeaked, "Thanks for saying that, and for helping me through this. I'm really scared. I know enough biology to know that the day in question is smack in the middle of the fertility zone."

"Want some water?"

He nodded.

Walking over to the cooler, she shook her head. "So where is Tawny while you're doing this?"

"Starbucks around the corner."

Sara filled the paper cup and carried it back to Greg. "How old is she?"

"Twenty-two."

"Here." She handed him the cup, thinking, yeah, with your thirty-year old virility, her perky twenty-two year old eggs, and a bullseye in the fertility zone, I'm sweating for you too, pal. Good lord, your ages _combined_ are fifty two. Grissom will be forty-nine in two weeks, not that he's the problem in our equation. No, it's my crazy cycle after being on the pill for a decade and the fact my eggs will turn thirty-five next month. If it doesn't work for us, it's my fault. Ironic, since all the nosy bodies seem to think Grissom is too old for me.

Holding the cup, he was shaking so hard, water spilled over the edges.

"Did she say what she would do if…"

"She was too scared to talk about it but, since she said Wedding Story is her favorite show, I think I have an idea what she'll propose." He gasped for a breath. "I know it's going to be positive. My grandma Enid predicted this. She's never wrong about this stuff."

"Do me a favor and stay rational."

"You sound like Grissom."

"Thank you." She kept one eye on the timer and one on Greg teetering on the stool. "Thirty seconds."

"Okay." He picked a spot on the wall and focused on it. "I'm not a bad person."

"Bad things happen to good people all the time." Knowing it all too well, she sighed. "You never know when your luck will change. You should have learned that out on Dales Trail…or in the lab explosion."

"Yeah."

When the timer rang, Sara shut it off and turned to Greg. "You want to interpret or do you want me to tell you?"

"I'm not even seeing straight." He gripped the edge of the counter. "You…you tell me."

For the second time today, Sara leaned in to read the results of a pregnancy test. Unlike this morning, however, the result _wasn't_ negative. "Greg…I'm sorry, it's positive. A solid 25 mlU."

"I knew it." He felt what little blood was left in his face disappear. "One time in my entire life. How fair is that?"

"Uh…it's totally unfair when people are trying to get pregnant and aren't!" Cleaning up after the test, she felt her blood pressure rising. "Grissom and I have no luck two months in a row, and you accomplish it in fifteen minutes. I can only imagine what people who have been trying for a year or two feel when they hear stories like yours. Unbelievable!"

It wasn't until she heard Greg vomiting in the trash can that she realized she was talking out loud and being incredibly selfish. "I'm so sorry!" She rushed to his side. "I'm a little emotional about the subject."

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he nodded. "It's…"

"Are you going to be sick again?"

Before he could answer he was hunched over the trash can hurling.

Rubbing his back, Sara soothed, "I'll help you get over to Starbucks, and if you want me to stay with you when you tell her, I will."

Timing…it really is everything. And when Jim Brass entered the lab, his timing couldn't have been worse.

"What the hell is going on back there?" Shaking his head, he goaded, "Sanders, you delicate flower, you really need to toughen up. Hey, Sara, maybe we can desensitize him by locking him in a confined space with some decomp for twenty-four hours. How about it?" Then he looked around. "Anyway…what's in here that smells bad other than what Greg just upchucked? I don't smell anything else. What a wuss."

"Um…." Sara helped Greg to a stool. "It's not job related, it's food poisoning."

"Did you cook burritos again?" He laughed. "The County is going to have to up their liability insurance if you keep bringing in food. Stick to what you do best, Boom Boom."

"Very funny." She flashed a smile to keep up appearances. "It wasn't my cooking." She quickly concocted a lie. "After shift, Greg went out for breakfast at one of those two dollar places and then he came back to grab a file. Right in front of me he went pale and lost it." That last part was truthful.

Checking out Greg's appearance, Brass remarked, "You really do look like shit."

Greg remained speechless, staring at the wall.

"Yeah, I don't think he should go home alone." Realizing she still had her gloves on, Sara peeled them off. "I know I'm the only one here right now but, is it okay if I take him? I'm sure I'll have plenty of OT to counteract the time off."

"Shouldn't be a problem. I'll let Nick know what happened." He shoved his hands in his pockets. "If it was tomorrow it would be a problem, because I'll be on vacation…which I apologize to you for in advance, because your hubby will be covering for me while I'm gone. I'm sure it will cut down on the precious amount of quality time you two lovebugs have together."

"Where are you going?" She was trying to keep the focus off Greg while hoping he didn't flat line from the stress.

"Wouldn't everyone like to know? It's a secret and it's staying that way." He grinned wildly. "My first vacation in years actually."

"With the mystery lady?"

"Let's just say I'll be in good company." He snickered, "well actually I'm hoping she'll be bad at certain times. That's the thing about her…she's good at switching." Then he thought, why am I telling _you_, of all people, this? "Forget I said anything." He walked over to Greg. "This is the second time in a month I've seen you hurling. I feel so special. Go home and drink some ginger ale, puke boy."

Greg heard nothing and remained in his stupor.

"I'll see you when I get back in three days. I expect it to be nice and quiet around here while I'm gone." He headed for the door. "I need to go call your lesser half and fill him in on a few things."

"Have a good trip." Sara waved him off and then helped Greg off the stool. "Come on." Unbelievable! I woke up this morning dying to tell someone I got a positive pregnancy test result today. I just didn't think it would be Tawny's result and Tawny I was telling.

**The Grissoms'  
****10:15 a.m. **

Lying under the covers with his glasses on and the latest copy of Entomology Today splayed across his chest, Grissom was sound asleep…until the phone rang.

By the fourth ring, he was conscious enough to grab the cordless from the nightstand. "Grissom." He answered in a scratchy voice.

"Did I wake you?" Brass yelled into the phone.

"Apparently." He cleared his throat and checked the time.

"Catching up on your beauty rest?"

"You do remember I work nights and only get to see my wife in the evening, right? When am I supposed to sleep?"

"Whine, whine, whine. You're as big a wuss as Sanders." He laughed. "I'm calling for two reasons. One, to remind you that you're covering for me while I'm on vacation…not that I am in any way implying you could fill my shoes."

"Of course not." Removing his glasses, he chucked them on the nightstand, hoping the call would end quickly and he could get back to sleeping. He needed the rest because every evening was a baby making opportunity and tonight, after the failed test this morning, he was certain Sara would feel exceptionally motivated. When they spoke right before he left the office, she surmised if her cycle turned out to be forty days again this month, they were in the strike zone all this week, which meant no night off for the troops. Not that he minded.

"I've got a bunch of stuff on my desk with notes for you to follow. If you can't figure it out, ask your wife to help you. Which leads me to my second reason for calling. When I get back from vacation, I want to sit down and talk options for you and Sara. You can't keep passing like ships every evening. I have something in mind that might interest you."

"Like what?" He was intrigued.

"I said AFTER my vacation." He laughed. "Trust me…I'll be in a much better mood after."

"Why won't you tell me where you're going or who you're going with?" He had shared details of previous women, why not this one? Did it mean he was serious about her? Or was there a reason for hiding her? Was she his _beck and call girl_ perhaps?

"I'm not telling you because I've decided to be a man of mystery." Laughing harder he said, "And to quote Jack Nicholson in the movie, A Few Good Men, _you can't handle the truth_. See, you're not the only one who can toss a quote."

"Is that a romantic comedy?"

"You really need to read less. Sleep tight and don't let the bed bugs bite. Hmmm…I guess you might actually like that, Bug Boy. Bye!"

"I wonder if that conversation would have made more sense if I were fully conscious?" After turning the ringer off, he tossed the phone on Sara's side of the bed, and promptly fell asleep.

**Starbuck's  
****10:25 a.m.**

Being the voice of reason, Sara told Greg he could not go to the Starbucks around the corner from _work_ and break the news to Tawny in public. If Tawny's reaction was half as bad as his then it wasn't going to be pretty. And as much as she wanted her own story to be yesterday's news, it wasn't going to be because Greg and Tawny took her spot.

With the knowledge that Tawny was wearing a pair of hot pink Daisy Duke cutoffs and a white crop top that said, Juicy, Sara walked into Starbucks to find her. Even without the clothing description Greg provided, it wouldn't have been hard to pick her out of the crowd. She was the beautiful young girl with bodacious boobs, sniffling hard into a tissue in the corner of the room.

"Tawny, hi, I'm Sara, a friend of Greg's."

"Where's Greg?" She asked in a voice rife with panic.

"He got detained and asked me to come and get you." Showing her most supportive smile, she said, "I'll take you to him."

"O…okay." She grabbed her tiny pink purse and followed Sara out of the café.

When they arrived at Greg's car tucked in a secluded spot two blocks away, Tawny was surprised to see Greg in the backseat. "But I thought you said he was detained?"

"Sorry," Sara opened the door. "That was code for, the conversation you're about to have shouldn't happen at Starbuck's and he's in no condition to drive yet."

"That means…"

"Yes."

Devastated, Tawny slipped into the back seat and crumpled in a heap of tears on Greg's shoulder.

Before shutting the door, Sara said, "Greg…I'm going home but I'll keep my cell on me. Don't hesitate to call." Then she shut the door and walked away, happy to be on her way to Grissom's shoulder.

**Catherine's House  
****10:52 a.m. **

Before Warrick saw them walk into the house, he heard them. Clicking off the TV, he waited on the couch for the dueling tornados to blow into the room. These tiffs weren't commonplace anymore but, when they happened, it was ugly.

"It's totally not fair!" Lindsay yelled. "Tiffany's mom and Staci's mom are letting them go! My best friends can go and I can't. Do you know how that makes me look!"

"Like you're thirteen with a mom who's not naïve?" She tossed her keys on the counter. "Maybe Staci and Tiffany's moms are blissfully ignorant about the real world, but I'm not."

"Of course not, because there's nothing you haven't done."

"Right!" Stuffing her hands on her hips, she snapped, "And you're lucky I did everything because, now when I tell you not to do something because it's stupid, you can be confident I am speaking from personal experience and saved you the trouble of finding out the same lesson the hard way. Should we review the list? Running away…stupid. Smoking…stupid. Drugs…stupid."

"Why do you always think I want to do what you did? Does it ever occur to you that I don't want to do that stuff because I don't want to be like you? But you never give me a chance to prove I'm not like you!"

"Time out." Warrick called from his spectator's spot on the couch. "My ears are ringing."

Lindsay took that as a sign she could appeal to the man of the house. "All I want to do is go camping in the desert with my friends at this great campsite. There will be two parents there. My best friends are going! She always thinks the worst!"

Holding up his hands, he said, "You know I don't get in the middle of this stuff."

Catherine stormed over to Lindsay. "Two parents will be there, huh? And how many boys will be at this campsite?" Turning to Warrick, she said, "Do you have any idea how much I got away with while well-intentioned chaperones were present? Can you see where I'm coming from?"

"You know I don't get in the middle of this stuff, Baby."

Simultaneously, Lindsay and Catherine shouted at Warrick, "You just don't want to make her mad at you by agreeing with me!"

**The Grissoms'  
****11:03 a.m.**

Mentally exhausted and fraught with cramps, Sara quietly entered the house, happy to be home to decompress from the stressful day. Even though she was desperate to talk, she didn't want to wake up Grissom because he would be pulling doubles the next few days covering for Jim, and therefore needed as much rest as possible.

Upon reaching the bedroom door, she saw her husband peacefully curled up in bed and had an overwhelming urge to join him. However, she knew if she climbed in bed, she would only disturb him by tossing and turning, so she opted instead for the kitchen.

Her head throbbing in rhythm with her abdomen, she decided to take something to alleviate the pain. Then she remembered she had tossed her Advil in Colorado Springs after finding out you couldn't take it while pregnant. Moaning, she started for the bathroom to see what else they had but then realized rifling through the medicine cabinet would be too noisy and would surely rouse Grissom.

Finally, since she was certain she wasn't pregnant, she thought, I'll kill the pain the old fashioned way…a stiff drink. Opening the fridge, she grabbed a carton of Tropicana then, opening the freezer, she retrieved a chilled bottle of Absolut from the bottom shelf.

After dumping three fingers of vodka in a tall glass, she poured in some orange juice and stirred the potent cocktail with a fork. A test sip proved the concoction a success so, with her drink in hand, she headed for the comfy couch, where she plopped down and grabbed the remote for the big screen.

When the TV came on it was tuned to Animal Planet.

_Next on, That's My Baby, Petals, the Cooper family's Yorkshire Terrier is about to give birth and the whole family is on hand to watch the miracle._

"I wonder how long it took Petals to get pregnant?" Sara commented before downing several sips of her lunch. "Maybe Trading Spaces is on TLC." She flipped the channel.

_Coming up on, A Baby Story, after five years of trying, including two failed in-vitro fertilization attempts, Mark and Kimberly Lennox are finally about to meet their dream baby. _

"Five years!" She gulped a hefty portion of the glass's contents. That would make me forty and Grissom fifty-four. He'd be seventy-two when the kid went to college. Tawny, on the other hand will only be forty when her kid goes to college! I wonder if her boobs will still look that good when she's forty? I wonder if her boobs will get even bigger now that she's pregnant? I wonder if she'll go through with the pregnancy? The poor girl was devastated. And Greg…ugh. I felt helpless.

Tilting her glass in one hand, and flipping the remote with the other, Sara found herself watching Discovery Health.

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

**Caving Under Pressure – Part 3**

**August 3, 2005 (Day 103)  
****The Grissoms'  
****12:43 p.m. **

Unsure how to make things right, Sara remained frozen in the bathroom, listening to the disheartening sounds coming from the bedroom…Grissom opening his closet, changing into street clothes and walking out of the room.

Sinking to the floor, she sat against the cabinets. He's leaving and I don't blame him. There are lines not to be crossed, not even when fighting and I didn't accidentally step over the line, I intentionally ran over it. His statement about my mother had context. My statement about his father had malice.

Wrapping her arms around her knees, she lowered her head and waited for the next predicted sounds…him walking down the hall and out the door, followed by the sound of the garage door opening, his car leaving and the garage door closing.

Like clockwork, each of the sounds happened and now all she had left to listen to was painful silence.

To avoid the silence, Sara started talking to her conscience, which was thankfully more sober than her mouth.

_Now_ I realize it started because he was worried about me but at the time I got defensive. Why did I get so defensive? Oh please! I know why, aside from being drunk and therefore reactionary, there was truth to what he said.

Does he know the DUI wasn't the only time I got drunk and drove under the influence? Did Brass tell him? The DUI was just the only time I got caught. I've never done it since and I wouldn't have done it today. I would have realized I couldn't drive two seconds after I said it but he jumped down my throat in that accusatory tone and set me off before I had a chance. He should have more faith in me! Of course, when I'm standing in front of him looped and spouting nonsense about Petals the Yorkshire Terrier, I suppose I gave him reason to be concerned. Fine, he was right on this point.

At least I was right about him being a hypocrite regarding my drinking. He can't have it both ways! He can't enjoy me inebriated when it suits him. Well…I suppose his point would be that in the limo we were both having fun and we weren't driving, which is a lot different than drinking to forget a problem and recklessly getting behind the wheel. Damn, he gets this one too. Unless of course, he believes I am an alcoholic then he shouldn't approve of, or encourage me to drink _ever_. But he doesn't think that, he's just concerned I could become one because of family history and all the stress I'm under. So he still gets the point. That's two for him, none for me.

The other hypocrisy example I cited was a joke…absolutely apples to oranges. His foray at Lady Heather's didn't have the potential to harm others like my mistake. Well, if it had interfered with ultimately solving the case, one could argue that the victim would suffer because of his choice, but still, it's a far cry from driving your car drunk and potentially killing innocent people or like Greg and Tawny's, letting a lapse in judgment bring an innocent baby into the world…or if they choose, end a baby's chance of coming into the world. Yeah, no contest, he gets this one too.

He didn't fight well and I didn't fight fair. Not a surprise I suppose considering our exposure to nasty marital arguments in our respective childhood homes. If he has to be like a father, better to be like his and flee when the going gets rough, rather than be like mine and get violent.

Closing her eyes, Sara decided to focus on how to make things right. What can I do? Maybe once the vodka is purged from my bloodstream I'll be able to think more clearly.

And while she was contemplating and getting nowhere, she heard all the disheartening sounds she experienced earlier, but in reverse…the garage door opening, the car return, the garage door closing, the house door opening and footsteps down the hall.

Her heart quickened as she realized he was coming back. However, since she was unsure of his reason for returning, and frightened it wouldn't be good, she stayed put.

As soon as he appeared in the doorway holding a Walgreens bag, her eyes watered. "You…"

"Don't say a word until I'm done talking." He demanded in a curt tone. For he was certain if he didn't get it all out without interruption, he'd lose his way.

She nodded, fully prepared to bite off her tongue if necessary.

"First of all, I want you to know emphatically, I'm not my father." With conviction, he reached into the plastic shopping bag and slapped the box of tampons on the counter. "My father, who really was an asshole, would have bolted for the county line, not Walgreens."

Sara covered her mouth so she wouldn't start blurting a flurry of _I love yous_ and _I'm so sorrys_.

"Secondly, I'd like to point out that I knew exactly which ones to buy without asking because I'm an observant guy who pays attention to his wife's needs."

Not finished, he reached into the bag and produced two Snickers bars. "Which brings me to my third point…you really are bitchy when you're craving chocolate and don't have any." He smacked the bars on the counter next to the box. "If you think I'm going to put up with this kind of behavior for nine months while you're pregnant, you can forget it. No, I won't tolerate it, so I'm going to have cases of chocolate in the pantry available to you at all times."

Feeling close to the verge of blurting, Sara put her second hand over her mouth.

Tossing the empty bag, he folded his arms. "And lastly, when you feel the need to prove me a hypocrite by pointing out my _greatest_ lapse in judgment, at least get it right. My greatest lapse in judgment was in Tahoe, the day I abandoned you at the hospital. _That day_…I was an asshole. Today, I was just concerned and not expressing myself well." Inhaling sharply, he said, "Because I didn't give you an opportunity to curse me out in Tahoe, I'm willing to take your nasty comment from today and apply it to when you had every right to say it to me. That being said, we'll call it even."

Taking a deep breath, he uncrossed his arms and quietly said, "I'm done talking. So if you have something to say go ahead."

Removing her hands from over her mouth, she softly said, "Thank you, for the Tampax and the Snickers, but most of all, for the empathy."

"You're welcome." He breathed out.

Overwhelming guilt and love joined forces and powered her voice. "When I made that horrible comparison between you and your father, immediately after, I said I didn't mean it. You asked if I _didn't mean it _or if I _didn't mean to say it out loud_." She paused to wipe her tears. "The answer is…I meant to say it out loud, in that I was looking for something terribly hurtful to say to you and I chose my words carefully."

Lowering his eyes to the floor, he dealt with her comment. Even though it pained him to know she could be so calculating, he appreciated her honesty.

Sniffling, she continued, "But please know, I was being truthful when I said I didn't _mean it_. I don't for a second believe you're anything like your father. You're a fantastic husband who knows I love Snickers and prefer Tampax Pearl and one day, preferably soon, you're going to be a great father to our child."

Lifting his gaze, he reconnected with hers.

"I know you said we'll call it even but I still want to say, I'm sorry for what I said and for being such a witch." Nervously laughing she said, "I blame the company I'm keeping on day shift. I think Nina Bitch is rubbing off on me. Wait…maybe it's because I took her fifty cents to buy my tampon. You know…like a deal with the devil. She possessed me in the Ladies Room."

"Then by all means get rid of Nina's contribution and return to your normal loving self." Grabbing the box off the counter, he tossed it to her.

After catching the box, she burst out laughing. "Can I have a hug?"

"Only if I can have one back." Bending over, he took her hand and pulled her up and into his arms. "Come here."

Their eyes closed, they clung to each other, both grateful for surviving their first marital argument.

Finally, Sara whispered, "Honey, how long are you going to beat yourself up over Tahoe?"

Smoothing his hands over her back, he sighed. "That day in your apartment, when I was begging for another chance, I told you I'd spend the rest of my life making it up to you and…"

The unexpected ring of their doorbell interrupted the conversation.

"Who could that be?" Grissom wondered.

Still holding her box of supplies, Sara shook it and said, "Why don't you get the door while I end the evil hold Nina has over me?"

Before leaving, he grabbed a kiss. "Put on your pajamas so we can curl up in bed." Exhaustion was catching up with him again and he hoped, after talking for a little while, they could sleep in each other's arms.

Her smile was back. "Sounds like a plan." She knew he needed to get some rest and looked forward to drifting off to sleep with him.

On the way to the front door, Grissom shook the last of the tension remaining in his body while pondering Sara's question… _how long are you going to beat yourself up over Tahoe?_ Sometimes it still felt like he was living on borrowed time. That he'd wake up one day and realize that it was all a dream and she had done what any other woman would have done, told him to go to hell and slammed the door in his face for being such an asshole. Hell, I missed a date with Terri Miller and she barely ever spoke to me again. I messed up with Lady Heather and she turned her back without accepting my apology. When I think of how I treated Sara for _years_ and, most of all, how I abandoned her in Tahoe, I know that Jim is absolutely right…I don't deserve her. Every moment of happiness I've experienced has been based on her overwhelming generosity and unfathomable forgiveness, so I guess the answer to her question is a resounding _never._

At the door, he glanced through the peep hole and saw Greg…but it wasn't the animated Greg he knew. The Greg on the porch was a shell of a man who looked like he just had the life sucked out of him.

When the door opened, Greg bristled, "Oh…uh…I was expecting you to be asleep and thought Sara would answer. She told me I could…sorry if I…uh… woke you."

"It's okay. I wasn't sleeping." He motioned for Greg to step inside. "I know Sara said she was expecting a call from you, so come on in. She's uh…taking care of something. I'll let her know you're here."

After taking one step forward, Greg balked. "You know…I don't want to disturb you guys, so I think I'll just go."

"Get in the house, Greg." Grissom ordered, knowing the guy needed Sara's support. "It's a big place, you can talk to her privately or, if it makes you feel better, I'll go for a drive."

Reluctantly, he stepped inside. "She told you, didn't she?"

"She didn't _mean _to tell me." He shut the door. "She got emotional about something else and blurted it out."

In silence, they walked down the hall.

"You want a drink?" Grissom asked when they were standing in the open area between the living room and the kitchen.

Noting the orange juice and vodka on the kitchen island, Greg said, "Maybe it would make me stop shaking."

"I'll make you one." He walked into the kitchen. "Have a seat."

While Greg slid onto a stool at the island, Grissom grabbed a glass and filled it with ice.

"Have you eaten anything today?" He asked as he mixed the drink.

With his head hung low, he replied, "Earlier, but it's not in my stomach anymore."

Sensing Greg's mortification was rapidly escalating, Grissom put the glass on the counter and said, "Not a single one of us on the team, myself included, hasn't made _at least_ one significant personal blunder in our lives. We're all human, Greg, and by nature we sometimes get irrational or irresponsible and make mistakes in our personal lives…some small, some huge. This isn't going to make me think less of you as a CSI."

"Really?" He asked while slowly lifting his head.

With strong eye contact and a firm nod, he assured him. "Really."

Relaxing slightly, Greg asked, "Could you make that a double?"

"Sure."

Sara, having grown impatient, hustled into the living room wearing her extra comfy sky blue sateen pajamas. "What were they selling at the door? We're supposed to be having our _we're all better_ pajama party!" Then she saw Greg sitting at the counter. "Oh." The poor guy looked mentally and physically drained.

"I tried to call your cell," He hastily explained," but you didn't answer. You said you'd be home, so I just drove here."

"Sorry." Walking over to the counter, she greeted him with a warm smile. "I left my phone out here in the kitchen while I was in the bathroom for a while…taking a shower. Grissom was asleep in the bedroom, that's why he didn't hear it." It was all very plausible.

Sliding Greg's drink across the counter, Grissom asked the nervous-wreck of man sitting in front of him, "Tell me honestly, as a CSI, do you believe Sara's story?"

"Uh…" Greg took a moment to sip his cocktail and consider his answer. "No. Not for a minute."

"Why not?" The boss inquired.

"You told me you weren't sleeping and because you're fully dressed including shoes, I believe you." Then he turned to Sara. "Your hair is a wreck and dry, plus you don't smell like soap, so you haven't been in the shower."

Grissom smiled proudly. "Very good. Now what do you _really _think was going on here?"

Sara stood listening, not sure why her usually private husband was inviting Greg to pry into their personal life.

"Uh…" Again he took a sip and wondered how he should respond. "Well…honestly?"

"Honestly, as if you were processing."

It felt nice to be in work mode and forget the weight on his shoulders for a moment. "Okay. Well…because I've established Sara lied about you sleeping, I know she's covering something." He took another close look at the woman standing quietly next to him. "I noticed when she first walked in here, her eyes were red and puffy, which tells me she's been crying. So I ask myself, what kind of tears? When she came in here she was happy and said you were going to have a _we're all better pajama party_. My theory is the two of you had a heated argument. I think you left the house, that's why you're dressed and your shoes are on, but you came back, made up, and everything is okay now…hence the we're all better pajama party."

"Very good, Greg." Grissom reached across the counter and patted him on the shoulder. "You're very good at your job and everyone is human, even Sara and I."

For the first time that morning, Greg's lips hinted at the faintest smile. "Thank you for that."

"Always teaching." Sara shook her head.

He nodded. "I'll be in the library while the two of you talk."

"You can stay." Greg announced. "Actually I…I'd like you to stay. I could really use a man's opinion. I can't call my dad about this and you're someone I respect so…"

It was nice to be needed. "Okay." Glancing at Sara he said, "You haven't eaten anything today, have you? Greg's stomach is empty and he needs something to go with the drink so how about I cook while we talk?"

"I'd love a burger," Greg blurted. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be rude. I'll eat whatever you throw at me. It's just greasy burgers have always settled my stomach…it's my hangover cure."

"Yeah well…fat chance." Grissom grinned at Sara as he opened the fridge. "Hamburger is forbidden in this house."

"Before we talk, do you mind if I use your bathroom?"

Sara nodded. "You know where it is, you passed out in it the last time you were here, puke boy." She grinned. "That's my way of making you feel more comfortable."

"Thanks." Greg appreciated the effort.

Once they were alone, Sara glared at her husband. "Trotting out our argument to make a point?"

As he cracked eggs in a white ceramic bowl, he explained, "You heard him. It's not like we were hiding it well. Besides, reinforcing my point was only one goal. My overarching concern was making him feel comfortable with me when he was mortified. He's under enough stress without having to add to it." Glancing up from his task, he raised his brows, "Jim Brass finds it effective to take everyone out and get plastered to the point of blackout to get past awkwardness. I thought I'd try a little honesty, one drink and some eggs."

"I like your method better." Coming up behind him, she slipped her arms around his waist. "When I came home, I had really bad cramps. I didn't have anything to take for it in my purse and you were sleeping. I didn't want to disturb you by tearing apart the bathroom so I made myself a stiff drink…old fashioned Ibuprofen."

"You don't have to explain…"

"Wait. That's why I had the first drink. I had the second because the first one felt good and was making me forget my problems. I would have had a third if I didn't drop the box of silverware and wake you." Laying her head on his back, she quietly asked, "Do you think that's a problem?"

Turning to face her, he searched for the right words. "I…I think…I don't think you have a problem because, since we've been together, you've only drank excessively a few times and, since you've been trying to get pregnant, you haven't drank at all. A person with a problem can't suddenly stop. However, with that said…" Taking a deep breath, he forged on. "I believe the potential to have a problem exists within you. I think it would only manifest if you didn't have anywhere else to turn in a time of serious need but, you have a husband who loves you, you have Dr. Myers available to you, and you have friends who care. You have a support system, so you don't need a bottle."

"I didn't always have a support system."

"I know." Reaching out his ran his fingers over her cheek. "And I understand what that can do to a person. That's why it was important to make Greg know he has one, right? We don't need him making any more bad choices."

"Right." Swallowing hard, she nodded, knowing they had just discussed a lot more than they verbalized. "Since I'm the only one wearing pajamas to this party, I'm going to change."

"Brunch will be ready when you return." He headed back to the fridge. "Cheddar and mushrooms in the omelet, toast with butter on the side."

Her smile fully restored, she kept walking and replied, "You really are an observant guy who pays attention to his wife's needs."

Even though she was already around the corner he yelled, "And you really are much more agreeable now that you're no longer under Nina Birch's control!"

As he exited the guest bathroom, Greg saw Sara laughing. "I could use a laugh. What's so funny?"

"Grissom made an inside joke." Then she thought about the accidental play on words and cracked up.

"Okaaay." He left her in the hallway and returned to the kitchen.

When Grissom saw Greg, he noted a little more color had returned to his face. "Feeling a little better?"

Returning to his stool, he replied, "The juice is good for my low blood sugar. The vodka is good for my frazzled nerves. The company is good for my decaying sanity."

"What do you want in your omelet?"

After swallowing his drink, he joked, "I suppose ham is out of the question."

"Let's get this straight. If it ever walked, it's not allowed in the kitchen." Grissom wiped his hands on a dishrag, then tossed it over his shoulder.

"Whatever Sara is having is fine." Still in avoidance mode, he took another swig of his drink and commented, "So, she never eats meat, but you still eat meat, just not in your own home?"

"It's a small price to pay to keep the peace." Chopping Sara's mushrooms, he smiled. "But don't feel too bad for me, there's a big fridge in the bug room and she never goes in there." Turning to the stove, he flipped a burner on and grabbed a skillet from the overhead pot rack.

"Clever. You can always blame the bugs if you get caught fulfilling a carnivorous craving because bugs eat meat. My dad smokes cigars on the sly from my mom." Suddenly Greg's voice flooded with apprehension. "So, uh…this marriage thing…aside from whatever happened before I arrived, it seems to be working for the two of you. What are the positives?"

Pouring the mushrooms into the heating pan drizzled with oil, Grissom remarked, "From your question, I assume Tawny is adamant about keeping the baby?"

"When I asked if she ever considered terminating the pregnancy, she hyperventilated." Polishing off his drink he slouched. "I was just bringing it up. I'm not sure it's something I would have been comfortable with either, but now I don't have to think about it because it's her choice and she said no way."

Changed into a pair of black lounge pants and a grey tank shirt, Sara took a seat next to Greg. "What about adoption? There are plenty of great people waiting for babies."

"As scared as I am, I couldn't have a kid out in the world and not know him." Greg lowered his head. "I still can't believe this is happening. I keep hoping I'll wake up."

Sara patted him on the back. "I'm proud of you for not running away from the problem. It takes a strong man to stick around when the going gets rough."

Her words weren't lost on the cook who was retrieving toast and ready to ask the burning question. "Greg, how sure are you that it's your baby?"

Shaking his head, he groaned, "DNA is my thing, right. One sample and I'd know for sure, but the problem is, as I'm sure you're aware, you can't safely obtain the baby's DNA until after it's born."

Grissom placed the two plates on the island. "So, you have a choice. You can remain uninvolved for nine months hedging a bet that the baby isn't yours and risk feeling guilty if you turn out to be the father or, you can be involved and emotionally invested for nine months assuming the baby is yours, while knowing there is a possibility you'll find out it isn't when it's born."

"Exactly." He stuck his fork in the eggs, but didn't attempt to break a piece off. "But we were together every day since we met and she works two jobs. She says she wasn't with anyone else." He saw the skeptical looks on their faces. "I know…I know…she still had plenty of opportunity, so let's stick with the evidence. Her blood test showed 25 mlU….which means she got pregnant during the time I was with her, not before, that alone is enough to make me not turn my back. Plus…in my gut, I don't think she's lying."

After a minute, Grissom asked, "Did you tell her that you really don't have a trust fund and the truth is, most weeks you're broke?"

Sara, who was inhaling her food until now, lowered her fork. "Greg, why would she think you had a trust fund? Hasn't she been to your apartment?"

"It was part of the line Grissom told me to feed her when I wanted to get lucky. He said, and I remember this verbatim, tell her…_ My ex-girlfriend was a stripper. I loved her something awful but she dumped me because I liked watching romantic movies. I thought my generous trust fund would have been enough to keep her around but I guess money doesn't matter to some women. Gosh, I'm so lonely._" After he said it, he knew he shouldn't have. It was the vodka on an empty stomach talking.

"What?" She glared at her husband. "Those were _your _words? You encouraged him to _lie_ to a girl to get laid! Do I know you?" Stunned by the revelation, she continued ranting. "You were playing Cyrano to get Greg a date with a stripper while you were working a case?"

"No, we were done working the case and Greg was on a ten minute break."

"Well, at least we cleared that up." She huffed. "Now all we have left are the skuzzy moral implications."

"Looks like I screwed up again." Greg hung his head in shame for breaking 'the guy code' of what happens in the strip club, stays in the strip club. "Sorry boss…I think I just got you in trouble with the boss."

"Not now, Greg." Grissom made his plea to Sara. "Honey…you have to understand…before you explode, let me provide some context." Straightening up, he said, "I told you I was at the Cheesecake Factory watching Pretty Woman when I met Tawny. She said she loved that type of movie, she also liked the fact that I had a Bvlgari jewelry bag and told me she'd work for cash. So, I told Greg a little inside information to increase the odds of her saying yes to a date."

"Did I miss the part where you explained why it's _okay to lie_ to a woman in order to get her to go out with you?"

"Thanks for the eggs and the drink." Greg decided it would be best to beat it.

"Freeze!" Sara grabbed him by the elbow. "You're not going anywhere, because you just downed a glass of vodka on an empty stomach after being awake for almost twenty four hours. I wouldn't be a very responsible person if I let you drive. So sit down!"

Cowering, he returned to his stool. "Whoa, being on the receiving end of the Sara Sidle dominatrix smack down isn't as much as fun as watching you give it to Lady Heather."

Grissom, brought his hand to his head thinking, thanks for bringing that up. "Sara, I don't think it's okay to lie to a woman to get a date. It's not something I ever did. If I had, I'm sure I would have had more dates, because being myself was a real turn off to most women. That's what so wonderful about you, Honey, you love me for who I am."

"Whoa." She couldn't believe her ears. "You _really_ must be worried you pissed me off, for you to say that in front of Greg."

"Absolutely!" He leaned over the counter and pleaded his case. "Think of the context, Tawny just offered herself to me, making it_ clear_, the only reason she was interested in me was for my wallet so I wasn't that concerned about offending her. Besides, Greg had just saved your life…I wanted to help him get a date as a way of thanking him." Facing Greg, he snipped, "But not for a moment did I think he'd sleep with her without protection."

Deciding it was a good enough explanation and that she didn't want to bicker anymore than they already had today, Sara sighed. "I absolve you from any wrongdoing, Honey." She grabbed a piece of toast and chomped off a bite. "So now answer the question, Greg. Did you clear up the misunderstanding?"

"The next day because I felt guilty." He smiled. "I was surprised that she still wanted to see me after she learned I was broke but, she said she didn't care because she liked me and I didn't treat her like a second-class citizen just because she stripped to make ends meet."

Grissom, relieved to have made it out of the hot seat, set about tidying the kitchen.

"So you slept with her under false pretenses first, because you didn't want to mess up the booty call, then you confessed. What a gentleman."

"Well…yeah, but I think we've already established I wasn't thinking clearly that night."

After swallowing her last bite of toast, Sara drew her conclusion. "Then the baby is yours unless she was with another guy poorer than you."

Grissom interjected, "Did you tell her about DNA testing and that you would expect a paternity test after the baby is born?"

"I did. She said she understood why I would wonder if I was the father and that she would be happy to have the baby tested to prove its mine."

"Well then." Sara pushed her empty plate away. "Congratulations, Greg. You're having a baby."

"Greg, you and I need to get some sleep," Grissom announced then quickly clarified his statement. "Not together…I meant before shift."

"Yeah, I'm exhausted." Greg slid off the stool. "Can I crash on your couch?"

"Sure." Grissom started down the hall. "Try to get some rest because it's Sofia's day off and I need you awake for shift."

Before leaving to join her husband in the bedroom, Sara made sure her impromptu guest would be comfortable. "You have everything you need…blanket, pillow, remote, oh and look." Making a selection from her pile of pregnancy books on the coffee table, she said, "Reading material." She tossed the book on the couch. "There is a whole section for fathers-to-be."

He grabbed the book and fell back against the brown velvet pillow. "Thanks for listening and for helping me through this."

"Anytime." Smiling, she held out her hand. "Keys please. I don't want you bolting in an hour and wrapping your car around a tree to shirk your responsibility."

"Not gonna happen." He relinquished them and grabbed the remote. "Don't let me oversleep because the boss will get ticked if I'm late."

"The boss will see you on the couch and drag you out the door." When she was halfway across the room she stopped to give one last piece of advice. "Stay away from Animal Planet, Discovery Health and TLC…they're all baby central."

On the way to the bedroom, it hit her. Greg is going to be a parent before I am. Damn! I wish I had bet Catherine on that one! I would have cleaned up.

When she arrived at her destination, Grissom was already stripped down to his boxers and in bed.

"Aren't you going to shut the door?" He asked when Sara strolled in and directly over to the bed.

"What if our kid wakes up in the middle of the night screaming? We won't hear him." Grinning, she slid under the covers and faced him. "Besides, you're not getting lucky today, so he won't catch us in the act."

"No offense, but I'm exhausted and grateful for the evening off."

"Me too!" Sweetly, she laughed. "A mandatory daily schedule is a bit grueling."

"So, instead of make-up sex, what do you suggest?"

"I know!" She snuggled closer and facetiously said, "We'll play your favorite game…we'll each share one thing we don't know about each other."

"Great." His voice reflected his dread. "You do recall me mentioning I am exhausted, right? You want to mentally drain me as well?"

"Since we're too tired to get heavy, we can only ask a light question." Propping on her elbow, she generously made an offer. "You can ask me first. Something silly you want to know."

Smoothing his hand over his beard, he desperately tried to think of something. "Hmm…oh…okay. What did you first think when you saw I grew a beard?"

"Oh man." She rolled onto her back and laughed. "Well, you had been gone for days without saying where you were going. That's when you were recovering from your ear surgery."

"And that's why the beard grew in and when it did, I thought what the hell, I'll keep it."

Gleefully she recalled the moment. "Okay, so I'm missing you like crazy wondering when you'll show up. I arrive for shift and see Nick. He tells me you're in your office." Rolling her eyes, she groaned, "Because, of course, he knows I have a thing for you and apparently I wasn't masking my angst very well. Anyway, I play it cool with Nick but, as soon as he's gone, I hurry to your office prepared to ask you some heady question about a case. I have the question in my head ready to fire and, when I knock on your door, you glance up and I see the beard. My brain goes blank as now I am lusting after you even more than I was before."

Reflecting back, he recalled the moment. "I remember that. You showed up at my door and I was thrilled to see you. Of course I didn't tell you that nor reflect it in any way, no, I sat there waiting for you to say something but you didn't say a thing."

"Because everything I was thinking was totally unshareable!" Giggling, she cited some examples. "Like…Honey, how about coming over here and letting me feel those whiskers up close and personal. Or…as the minutes passed and I got more excited…I wonder what that beard would feel like sliding over my red hot bod that's aching for you, Baby!"

He laughed with her. "That would have thrown me."

"Which reminds me of another thought I had at the time…get a grip, Sara! You can't keep throwing yourself at the man! He rejected you! Get over it. Just because he has a beard now doesn't make him less of an ass!"

"I presume that after that thought was when you said, _Nick told me you were back. Were you gone?"_

"Smooth, huh?"

"Definitely effective at making me feel like a bigger loser than I already was for shooting you down." Pulling her close, he consumed her with a kiss. "Okay, your turn to ask a question."

"I'll be very easy on you. Tell me about your first roller coaster ride." Immediately she saw emotion in his eyes.

Caught off guard by the question, his mouth opened, but words didn't follow.

"I'm sensing this isn't an easy, silly question."

"No." Rolling on his back, he stared at the ceiling.

"Then you don't have to answer it." Snuggling up to his side, she whispered, "Let's just get some sleep." Gently, she laid her arm across his chest and closed her eyes.

A few minutes later, he softly said, "After my parents divorce, I rarely saw my father because every time he came around, my mother got very emotional."

Upon hearing his words and the vulnerability in his voice, her eyes opened.

"Eventually, instead of bringing over child support checks and taking me out for an afternoon, he started mailing the checks and I never saw him. He'd call every once in a while and when he did, he never failed to remind me it was my mother's fault I didn't see him more. When I was on the phone, I'd have to lie to my mother and tell her it was a sales call because, if she knew it was him, she'd blow up about him not coming to see me."

Sara, sensing he needed to tell the story without distraction, remained silent and conveyed her support only through a gentle caress of his arm.

"It was the Sunday before my ninth birthday and I was in the front yard collecting bugs." Reaching out, he took Sara's hand and held it against his chest. "You probably find that hard to believe."

Since she was invited to speak and his tone had lightened slightly, she sweetly teased, "I'm shocked."

"Anyway, my father shows up out of the blue and tells me he wants to take me out for the day…an early birthday present. Of course, I'm thrilled, but I know if my mom saw him it would be a disaster so I tell him to wait in the car and I go inside and tell my mother my pal Johnny invited me over for the day." After exhaling deeply, he said, "So I guess I did lie to a woman to get a date…I lied to my mother to get a date with my father."

"She believed you?"

"Yes, which shows you how in tune she was with my life, I didn't have a pal named Johnny." He shrugged. "It was probably wishful thinking on her part because I didn't have any friends. In any case, the ruse worked and I got in my dad's car all ready for an adventure."

"Your first roller coaster, I presume."

His tone reflected the boyish enthusiasm of the story. "He took me to the beach, to go to the amusement park and we had the greatest time playing games, eating junk, the whole nine yards There I was out in the world, doing things I didn't normally get to do. I was talking, not signing, which was a treat, and I was with my dad and he was making sure I had the greatest time. We had done the whole park except for The Dipper because I was scared. My dad told me that if I gave it a shot, he'd buy me whatever toy I wanted on the way back home."

"Bribery…I'm surprised you succumbed."

"Well…there was this microscope I was dying to get."

For the first time, she lifted her head and looking into his eyes, she flashed a brilliant smile. "I should have known."

Tucking her hair behind her ear, he said in a broken whisper, "When I want something bad enough, eventually I can overcome even the deepest fear."

Stroking his cheek, she quietly prompted him. "Tell me the rest of the story."

"Even though I was terrified, I got on the ride." Suddenly his face lit up. "The whole way up the first hill I was sure I was going to pass out. We kept going higher and higher and people were getting smaller, but as soon as we took that first plunge…I was hooked._ Nothing_ in my life was exciting, but for ninety seconds I was in another world full of dips and turns. By the time the ride ended, my heart was racing and I never felt more alive. I begged my dad to do it again and he complied. We rode it five times."

She enjoyed the happiness dancing in his eyes. "So it was a great day."

"The best."

"Did you get the microscope?"

"On the way home, as promised." As quickly as it had appeared on his face, the joy disappeared. "I didn't know at the time the day was all one big parting gift."

Feeling his pain, Sara said, "It was the last time you saw him."

"When we returned to the neighborhood, he parked around the corner from my house and dropped the bomb. He had gotten married six months before to a widow with two small children. He had a new family. As if that wasn't hard enough, he informed me they were moving out of the country because he got transferred. He said he'd call and when the transfer assignment was over he'd come get me again for another day of fun." His voice faded as the betrayal was recalled. "But that never happened. The child support payments kept coming, but the calls didn't, and I never saw him again. To him I was just another monthly bill to be paid. When I was headed for college, my mom gave me a large check from him. That's when I made a decision. I tore it up, sent it back to the address on the envelope with a note that said his obligation was over, and I never expected or wanted to hear from him again. He complied."

Suddenly, on a random afternoon, in response to what she thought was an insignificant question, she got the last and biggest piece of the Gil Grissom puzzle and the picture for the first time ever was in perfect focus. "It's always been about this." Startled by the revelation, she sat straight up in bed.

"What has?" He sat up next to her.

"Your biggest fear...the reason it took so long for us to get together…why you kept telling me to get a life but when I did you got angry…the reason you still have doubts today…it's never been about ME! Oh my god…your words that day in the interrogation room make perfect sense now." Breathless from the significance, she recounted his words from that day. "She offers a new life with her, but we have a decision to make…because we have to risk everything we've worked for in order to have her. I couldn't do it…but you did, and she gave you a wonderful life, but then she took it away and gave it to somebody else and you were lost." Taking his hand, she explained, "It's always been about your fear of being shown the greatest joy, and then having the person who showed it to you, without warning, take it away from you and give it to someone else. It's always been about his betrayal…your belief that people will lie to you…your inability to trust others…you fear of loving me."

"I…" After taking a minute to process what she said, he realized she was right. "I never really tied it back to that one experience but…what you're saying makes sense."

"In therapy we call this a breakthrough." Overjoyed, she threw her arms around him, tackling him against the sheets. "I love you!"

"Whose breakthrough was it?" He asked while being smothered.

"Mine, yours and ours." She covered his mouth with an eager kiss until she ran out of air. "I feel so free!"

"I'm catching up." Grinning, he said, "Ask me what my favorite roller coaster ride is."

Straddling him, she excitedly asked, "What's your favorite roller coaster ride, Honey?"

"The one I'm on with you."

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

**Caving Under Pressure – Part 4**

**August 3, 2005 (Day 103)  
****Crime Lab  
****9:58 p.m.**

While stowing their personal items in their lockers, Catherine and Warrick continued their heated discussion from the car on the way to work.

"Cath, come on, I'm not taking _either_ side," Warrick reiterated for what he believed to be the fiftieth time. "All I'm saying is…I think you do assume the worst about Lindsay based on _your_ past behavior, and it's going to turn into a self-fulfilling prophecy or worse, she's going to try to outdo you."

After shutting her locker a little more forcefully than required, she snipped, "So you think I should let her go on that orgy disguised as a camping trip!"

"No." His hand gripped the side of his face. "I told you, and I told her, that I don't think the camping trip is cool."

"Now I really don't know whose side you're on!"

"Fine, you know what…I'm on both sides." He tossed his hands in the air. "I agree with her that you need to give her a chance to prove to you that she's not you. I agree with you that she shouldn't go camping. Now you'll both be pissed at me."

Stuffing her hands on her hips, she huffed in exasperation. "I think she's using you as leverage against me. It was easier when you weren't there."

"What are you saying?" Leaning against the lockers, he considered her callous words. "You want me out?" It hurt that she could be so flippant about the arrangement.

"What?" She couldn't believe he'd think that. "No! I meant it was _easier _when you weren't there to be the voice of the reason and make me think."

"Oh." He checked her eyes for the truth and decided she was telling it.

"You think I would kick you out just like that?" How could he think that, she wondered?

He shrugged. "Guest status feeds insecurity."

"Is that what you consider yourself, a guest?"

Before Warrick could answer, Vartann walked into the room. "You guys seen Grissom yet?"

"No." Catherine answered. "Did you page him?"

"Yeah, but he's not responding. I called his cell too. He's always here early for shift." Laughing, he said, "Well, he was _before_ he was married. Maybe now he has a reason to be late, especially with Sara working Days."

Yanking her cell off her belt she said, "I'll try his home phone.

"I'm getting some coffee." Warrick announced, happy for the opportunity to escape the discussion he was having with Catherine.

**The Grissoms'  
****10:04 p.m.**

Curled up on the couch, Greg heard a distant ringing and fought for consciousness. "Wh…" Noting his surroundings, he remembered he wasn't at home in bed but at Grissom's. Then he saw the baby book on the floor next to the couch and remembered why. A series of groans and stretches followed while he wondered how long he had been asleep.

Checking his watch, he saw that it was after ten. "Oh shit." He jumped off the couch and headed to the kitchen to find the phone that was ringing moments ago. A quick check of the caller ID showed that it was Catherine who called from her cell.

Grabbing the cordless phone, he returned the call. "Hey, I…"

"Gil, stop boinking your wife to make a baby and get your ass in here."

His voice was thick with sleep and he figured that's why she didn't recognize the difference. "Uh…Catherine. It's Greg."

"What the hell are you doing there? You're supposed to be here."

Walking out of the kitchen he answered, "I had lunch here and ended up crashing on the couch."

"Where's your boss?"

"I'm guessing still asleep." He hurried down the hall. "I'll check."

"Make a lot of noise, because newlyweds are like rabbits, especially these two…they're still making up for a lot of lost time."

When he saw the open bedroom door, he coughed loudly to alert them of his presence, but got no response.

"Well?" Catherine snipped through the phone.

"Hold on." Nervously, he peered into the room. "They're sound asleep."

"Our perfect boss is sleeping through his shift!"

Catherine's loud laugh caused Greg to pull the phone from his ear. "What should I do?"

"Here's a radical idea…wake him. Wait!"

Just as he was about to knock on the door, he stopped. "What?"

"How do they look sleeping together? I mean, for crying out loud, they've been together for almost a year and we've never even seen them hold hands or kiss! That's bizarre, don't you think? It has to be weird to see them in bed." Her voice turned curious. "So tell me, how do they look together?"

"Kinda cute actually," He said in a surprised tone. "They're spooning."

"Spooning, really? I wouldn't have pegged them as spooners." She chuckled. "Are they wearing jammies?"

"On top, she's wearing a tank, he's got nothing, and I'm not looking under the blanket. You know…this is getting squicky, even for us. The next thing you're going to ask is do I have a camera?"

"Do you?" Her laughter rang through the phone. "Like the National Enquirer, I'd pay for photos."

"That's it, I'm knocking. Goodbye, perv." Three forceful raps to the door frame and then he said, "You're late for work, boss," before jumping back out into the hall.

Sara's voice rang out. "Honey, wake up! It's 10:15! You're supposed to be at work. Greg?"

"Yeah." He stood against the wall in the hall listening to the scurrying coming from the bedroom. "Catherine called your house phone that's how I woke up. Sara, can I have my keys back? And, Gris, is it okay if I stop at home for a five minute shower and a change of clothes?"

Grissom's voice boomed. "Make it a two minute shower and the answer is yes."

Sara showed up at the door wiping the sleep out of her eyes. "You doing any better? Here are your keys."

Grabbing his keys, he said, "The shock has worn off, but now the reality has set in so…no."

Sara smiled supportively and since Grissom would be in the shower for a few minutes, she offered, "I'll walk you to the door."

Side by side they walked down the hall.

After a full yawn, he said, "That book you gave me to read scared the crap out of me."

"And you're not even the one that has to gestate!" Her voice jittered. "Think how I felt reading it."

"So I know you're trying because you blurted it out during my melt down in the lab. From my conversation with Catherine a minute ago, I take it she knows too."

"What did she say?"

Imitating Catherine, he shrilled, _"Gil, stop boinking your wife to make a baby and get your ass in here_."

"Yeah, that would give you a clue."

"Since it's not working for you guys yet, I hope I didn't upset you with all this talk about Tawny's pregnancy."

"We only started trying and I need to chill out." Opening the front door, she chuckled and told him the fake reason for her desperation. "I'm a perfectionist, so it's hard for me not to get things right the first time."

"Gotcha." When he hit the landing he said, "Tell Grissom I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Have a good shift, Greg. Hopefully you'll get a cool case that can occupy your mind for ten hours."

When she shut the door, she trotted to the bedroom, hoping to snag a few kisses from her husband before he ran out the door.

When she returned, she heard him in his closet and said, "We're out of the habit of setting the alarm clock." Since she switched shifts it wasn't necessary because Grissom, if he didn't wake on his own, slept until she woke him upon returning home.

"I turned off the ringer on the phone after Brass disturbed me earlier." He emerged from the closet buttoning his beige short-sleeve shirt. "My cell is in my office with my pager."

"I'll grab them for you while you get socks and shoes."

"Wait." He hurried over and threw his arms around her, cradling her in a hug. "Thank you for working through the roller coaster thing with me after it all came out. I feel great this morning. Like something huge is off my chest. I think that's why I slept like a rock."

"I'm so happy to hear that." Her hands ran up his back and she nuzzled into his embrace. "It felt good being the one there for you for a change."

Remembering what Catherine advised when he said Sara wanted to be an equal partner in the relationship…_partnership is a two-way street. Show her you need her intellectually and emotionally and she'll be thrilled, _he said, "Honey, did it give you the partnership feeling you've wanted?"

"Definitely," she sighed as she ran her fingertips through his wet hair. "For once, I helped you through an issue."

Whispering in her ear, he said, "Oh, I'm sure I'll have more issues in the future so you'll get to flex that muscle again. With my 49th birthday coming up, it's a guarantee actually."

"Right now your issue is getting to work before Greg or you'll never hear the end of it."

"First time in decades I've been late." Pulling back slightly he said, "Just as I always suspected, having a personal life interferes with work performance."

"I'll see you in the morning, but first…." Her lips brushed over his as she spoke. "Give me a kiss that will satiate me for the next twenty hours."

Enticed by the challenge, he pressed his lips to hers, caressing her to a slow burn, while coaxing her body against the bedroom wall. Once she was trapped, he upped the intensity with deep, hungry kisses, and he knew he was on the right track when she emitted a series of pleasure-drenched sounds into his mouth. Still uncertain he hit the twenty hour mark, he took her wrists in his hands, pinning her arms against the wall, and threw his whole body into the act until finally they were both left gasping for air.

With an outrageous grin, she pushed him off her. "Okay, I'm good for the next twenty hours."

"Now I don't want to go to work," He panted. "That was a really stupid idea."

"Sorry, you have to go." Snickering, she sauntered across the room. "Because after your shift, you get to be the big boss because Jim is on vacation." At the door, she winked and nostalgically asked, "Are you _frustrated_, Honey?"

"Enough to last twenty hours," He groaned while marching off to retrieve his shoes.

**Greg's Car  
****10:28 p.m. **

Since Tawny's shift at Tweeter's started at eleven, Greg thought he'd check in on her on the way to work. Let the obligations begin, he thought as he punched in her number.

"Hello."

"Hey, Sweetie." Greg greeted in an upbeat tone. "How are you doing?" He hoped beyond reason she'd say, _great! I just got my period, must have been a false alarm_.

"Not too good. There are so many things I thought of after we talked. Like, I don't have health insurance and I won't be able to strip in a couple of months so how am I going to cover my rent?"

"We'll work it all out, I promise." He heard her sniffling through the phone. "How are you going to work tonight?"

"I'll manage 'cause I need the money. Hopefully Vinnie will let me work the VIP room so I can clean up on lap dances with the guys from that car dealership convention in town. They're big spenders."

Cringing at the thought of the mother of his baby gyrating for cash on some pervert's thighs he tried to sound supportive. "Um…call me if you need to, okay."

"Okay, Greggy. Bye."

When he hung up, he slammed the steering wheel with his hand. I can't let her keep stripping when she's carrying my baby! That's disgusting. I have to financially support her, even if I run the risk of looking like a fool in nine months. Hell, I'd rather be a fool for helping her than a deadbeat dad. But…ugh…what should I do?

**The Grissoms'  
****11:31 p.m. **

While tidying the kitchen, Sara paused to grab the cordless phone and punched in Grissom's cell phone code.

After just two rings she heard him drone, "Yes, I am still frustrated."

"Understandable. Only one hour has elapsed." Loading plates in the dishwasher, she chuckled, "My kiss satiation level is holding strong…nice job."

"Good to know."

"Honey, I'm calling for a reason actually." Standing at the counter, her tone turned serious. "I'm thinking about adding another exclusionary rule for the kitchen along with no meat and wanted to run it by you."

"What now?"

Picking up the bottle sitting on the counter, she replied, "Vodka…and other variants." The message was clear and she knew he wouldn't require any additional information.

His moment of silence was finally followed by, "Whatever you want to do is fine with me, Honey."

"Thanks." Opening the lid, she started pouring the contents in the sink. "You can always keep a bottle of scotch in the bug room along with your meat stash." She heard him lightly gasp. "Yeah…I know all your secrets, pal."

"Even why I like roller coasters."

"Speaking of which…I want to ride one with you before I get pregnant, which will be next month because I'm going hard core." Grinning, she said, "It's about time we turned to science to get the job done."

"Ah…ovulation prediction."

"You know it." As she spoke, she cleared out the remaining liquor bottles in the pantry. "I just downloaded some ovulation tracking information on the computer. It's going to happen. I can feel it. Two lab rats like us…we'll be fine once we bring science into the equation."

"I'll put the troops on standby."

"Speaking of troops. Don't you have a job to do?" She started pouring the contents of each bottle down the sink. "How can you be on the phone talking to me while you're at work?"

"It's unusually quiet. I picked a good night to be late for the first time ever."

"Lucky break."

"I'll take it."

With longing in her voice, she said, "I'll see you around six, Honey."

"I'll still be frustrated."

"I think my kiss satiation level will still be holding strong because you did one hell of a job." Reluctantly she said, "See you later."

"Bye."

**McCarran Airport  
****Flight 6626 - Canadair  
****11:45 p.m. **

With his carryon bag on his shoulder, and school-boy grin plastered on his face, Jim Brass waltzed into the First Class section of the airplane. Even though he had the right, as a premiere paying passenger, to board early, he waited, and blended with the last of the coach customers.

When he reached row two, he saw the window seat was already occupied and said, "Excuse me, Lady. Is this seat taken?"

"It will be if you sit in it," Heather replied. "And you are?"

"Jim Brass." Taking the open seat, he extended his hand. "Nice to meet you."

"I'm sure it is." Seductively she slipped her silky hand in his. "I'm Heather Duvall. Are you going to Vancouver or flying on to parts unknown, Mr. Brass?"

He tossed his bag at his feet and relaxed in his seat. "Vancouver. But when I get there, I'd like to explore a few unknown parts."

Leaning into the conversation, the red silk of her billowy blouse slipped off her shoulder. "Business or pleasure?"

"The business of having pleasure, actually." He rested his elbow on the armrest of the seat, so their bare forearms were touching. "What about you. What's on your agenda during your stay in Vancouver?"

"So many things." Crossing her legs, she let her foot slip out of her sandal and come to rest against her travel companion's leg. "Where are you staying in Vancouver, Mr. Brass?"

"The Sutton Place Hotel."

"What a coincidence." Her face exploded into a smile. "Me too."

In his best 'aw shucks' voice, he asked, "I hope you won't think this too forward of me but…I don't know anyone in Vancouver so, would you maybe be interested in having a drink in the hotel bar when we arrive? You know…a welcome to the city and toast to our respective trips."

After coyly pondering the offer, she said, "Well…I don't know you but, since we'll be in a public place, I suppose it would be okay."

"Great." He pulled the in flight magazine out of the seat pocket in front of him. "I look forward to it, Ms. Duvall."

"As do I, Mr. Brass." From her purse, she retrieved her copy of the Da Vinci Code and cracked it open.

Behind their respective pieces of reading material, they grinned uncontrollably thinking, let the games begin…strangers on a plane was the theme for this outing, and it was going to be one long, wonderful ride over the next three days.

**August 4, 2005 (Day 104)  
****Crime Lab  
****3:44 a.m**

Three to four a.m., when most people took their main break, was the quietest time during Graveyard, and Grissom seized the opportunity to check on Greg, who was painstakingly analyzing blanket fibers while quietly suffering.

"How's it going?" He made the question ambiguous so Greg could choose the topic.

Without looking up, he blandly answered, "Well…I'm doing a kick-ass job on this fiber analysis, but my personal life is still spiraling out of control."

"Do you need me for anything?" Again it was purposely vague…not prying, but letting him know he was available in any capacity.

Setting down his tweezers, Greg unfurled a heavy sigh and his latest burdens. "I don't love her and I can't imagine marrying her."

"That's perfectly normal, Greg, it's only been a few weeks and it's not something you can force if it isn't there." Since it would be a personal conversation, he pulled up a stool. "You shouldn't feel guilty about it. And you don't know what will develop over time."

"But shouldn't I already know if it will be a possibility?" He shrugged. "Nick swears he knew he would marry Carrie the first night they met."

"Okay, Nick knew, and maybe some people do, but those stories aren't typical."

Unsure if his question was appropriate, he asked it anyway. "What did you think about Sara when you first met her?"

"Ah…" Running his hand over his beard, he wondered how or if he should answer. "I won't tell you what I was thinking when I first met her, but I will say it wasn't marriage. I felt strongly about Sara for a long time, but marriage wasn't something I considered until recently. I didn't consider it until I knew it would have a strong chance of working, because it's something I only want to do once in a lifetime."

Vexed by the many options swirling in his head, he fired a string of questions. "If I find out Tawny's baby is mine, do you think it's wrong to marry her if I don't love her? I mean, what would be best for the child? Doesn't the child deserve two parents if it's possible?"

"Well…" Reflecting on personal experience, he answered, "If the parents don't hate each other I believe that's true but, if it's a marriage of convenience, and the husband and wife build an animosity toward each other that the child has to experience daily, I'd say no, the child is better off with living with one parent and the other can be involved and be financially supportive. Greg, the most important thing you can do is make sure the child never feels like he or she is the reason for your unhappiness. That's a burden no child should have to tow."

"Right." Nodding he pondered the insightful words. "I can't blame the child for creating the situation."

Suddenly, Grissom projected an optimistic tone. "But who is to say, nine months from now, if the baby is yours, that you'll be unhappy? What if going through this process together brings you and Tawny closer, and the feelings that are lacking now develop as a result?" For a moment he turned introspective. "I can only imagine the joy two people must feel when they hold their baby for the first time. It has to be a powerful bond to know you created that life together. A truly extraordinary experience." Turning his eyes back to Greg, and his thoughts outward, he said, "Maybe seeing Tawny as the mother of your child will change everything."

"I've always had this ideal for a wife and well…" Feeling guilty, he said it anyway. "This will sound horribly shallow, but since we're being honest. She's a stripper who only has her GED."

Unphased by the lackluster profile, he pointed out the obvious. "You know someone else who fit that description once, and she's a pretty spectacular lady now."

"Catherine." He raised a brow. "But Tawny's not anything like Catherine."

"You didn't know Catherine then, so how can you say that?" After standing, he placed his hand on Greg's shoulder. "I'm sure Tawny has a story that put her where she is today. Everyone has a story, Greg. I doubt many girls dream of her life. She's at a place a girl ends up when dreams don't pan out. If given the right circumstances and a few breaks from someone who cares, Tawny may be capable of much more than you know."

Appreciative of the advice, Greg nodded. "Thanks."

"Anytime." Switching to work mode, he ordered, "Now tell me what you've got on those fibers."

**Vancouver, BC  
****The Sutton Place Hotel  
****4:07 a.m.**

Standing outside the closed restaurant/bar, Brass sadly remarked, "I guess this town doesn't stay open all night like Las Vegas."

"It would appear not," Heather sighed. "Well…maybe we can meet for our drink tomorrow."

"Until then." He bolted for the elevator.

"Wait." She pursued him. "I'm sure there's a mini-bar in my suite." Batting her eyelashes, she propositioned him. "And I always find the caps on those tiny bottles difficult to handle. Do you think you could handle me…I mean them?"

"Only one way to find out." He pressed the elevator button. "Which floor?"

"The bedroom floor." She purred as she stepped through the opening doors. "Oh…I mean twelve."

Her performance almost made him slip into a fit of laughter as he pressed the correct button. "Going up."

**Grissom's Office  
****4:31 a.m. **

Holding his cell phone, Grissom debated calling Sara. He didn't want to wake her if she was sleeping, but considering she had napped this afternoon and knowing her inability to sleep more than seven hours in a day, he decided to go for it.

"Are you calling to tell me you're_ still_ frustrated?" She answered in a perky tone.

"Good…I didn't wake you." He was grateful for the slow night at the lab because he felt compelled to talk to her. "Where are you?"

"Ahh…you remember the order of questions." The lilt of her voice was playful. "I'm lying in bed reading."

"And you're wearing?" He played the game even though it was far from his reason for calling.

"Actually the same comfy clothes I've had on for the last fourteen hours so I'm not exactly fresh as a daisy." She gave a hearty laugh into the phone. "Pretty sexy, huh? I should have lied."

"At least I have a good mental picture of you." Deciding he would try to outsmart her at her own game, he lowered his voice to a suggestive whisper. "Not to mention a good _feel_ for you, since six hours ago I was running my hands all over that soft grey tank shirt, and those smooth black velour pants. Well…except when I was winding my fingers through your hair and pressing your hands against the wall so I could smother you with long, deep kisses, which is exactly what I'd be doing now if I were home."

"Whoa."

"Are you frustrated?"

"Hell yeah! When did you get so good at that?"

He laughed as he eased back in his chair. "I guess seeing you only three quality hours a day, pumps the imagination."

"It takes a sensitive man to describe pants as smooth black velour."

"No." He quickly corrected her. "It takes an observant CSI with an intimate knowledge of materials."

"True!"

"My reason for calling…" Looking up he checked the hallways to see if anyone was on their way to barge in and when it was all clear, he said, "I ordered you something that will be delivered Fed Ex tomorrow."

"Hmm…I'm curious."

Without warning, his tone softened. "A state of the art ovulation predictor kit, because if you're going to get scientific, you should have the best equipment available to you."

"That's much better than flowers!"

"I've always felt science materials are better than flowers." As customary, he cited an example to back his statement. "Why do you think I gave you that Entomology text instead of roses?"

"Because flowers would have symbolized the romantic feelings you weren't ready to express, so instead you chose to torture me with an ambiguous gift of a book with no card, which you knew would only leave me more confused regarding your feelings for me. As a bonus, you knew the book would remind me of you every time I saw it or read it, thereby increasing my level of _frustration_ about our twisted non-existent relationship."

With a hearty laugh, he explained, "Okay, but that was all subconscious. I swear, I thought it was a really great book and I wanted to share my passion for bugs with you."

"Hey, it lasted a hell of lot longer than a bunch of stinking roses, and made me smarter, so I'm not complaining!"

The happiness in her voice made his spirits soar. "Honey, I know I've been pretty low key about you getting pregnant but it's only because I don't want you getting your hopes up too fast."

Tenderly, she replied, "I know, and I promise to _try _and relax about it."

"I was talking to Greg earlier and it suddenly hit me." Turning his chair, he faced the wall so passersby wouldn't read the emotion on his face. "I had this vision of us together…you holding our beautiful baby, and me standing next to the bed watching the two of you meet for the first time. It blew me away. Maybe it's because I unlocked a huge piece of my past with you, but all of a sudden I have a clearer vision of the future. I can really see a family happening for us. I can't wait for it to happen. I used to have nothing to look forward to in my personal life and now I have everything…because I have you."

"I miss you so much right now." Her voice crackled with emotion. "I need a different job. I don't want to live like this. We waited so long for this life, we can't waste this much time apart. Life's too short."

"I know. I'm meeting with Brass to discuss options as soon as he returns. We'll work it out, Sweetheart. No matter what it takes. Okay?"

"Okay." She sniffled. "I'll see you in at five-thirty, because suddenly I want to come in even earlier than usual."

"I can't wait to see you."

"We really are gushy newlyweds, aren't we? Bye."

"Yes, we are. Bye."

Clicking off his phone, he filled his lungs with air and tried as he might not to be a sap, he couldn't help but think, this next hour is going to be the longest of my life.

_

* * *

_


	5. Chapter 5

**Caving Under Pressure – Part 5**

**August 4, 2005 (Day 104)  
****Crime Lab  
****5:42 a.m.**

Happy as a clam and determined not to let the gossipmongers get her down today, Sara floated into work, looking forward to seeing her husband and, like old times, working side by side for a while.

When she reached his office, she was disappointed to find it empty, but figured he must have been called to attend to something important…or needed to make a quick trip to the men's room. Deciding she would leave a note telling him she would be in DNA, she walked over to his desk. Once there however, she saw a confidential envelope with her name on it. "Hmm…" After glancing over her shoulder, she opened it, and pulled out the note inside.

_My Dear Sara,_

_Sorry to say, duty called. I wish you were coming with us. We're going to a ghost town south of Boulder City and I know you love those places. Hope your kiss satiation holds because I'll be gone for a while. Are you missing me right now? Wherever I am when you're reading this, I guarantee I'm missing you. _

_Yours forever, _

_Gil_

_P.S. We really are sickeningly sweet newlyweds, but since I never thought I'd be one, I'm loving every minute of it. Besides, I'm not the first guy to act this way. My source – check the poetry section of our library. I'm in good company. _

A giddy grin overtook her features. Folding the note, she stuffed it in her pocket, which already contained four quarters she placed in there this morning so she wouldn't be at the mercy of Nina or anyone else in the bathroom. I don't care what anyone says to me today, she promised herself, nothing is going to get me down. We're happy. We survived our first marital argument. We're planning a family. It's all good. Life is perfect.

**Highway 93 **

**Grissom's Tahoe**

**5:56 a.m. **

While driving to the scene, Grissom and Greg discussed the Eldritch case until every detail was covered. Afterwards, hoping to perk up his team member's spirits, Grissom made the ultimate sacrifice. "Greg, why don't you put on the radio? You can pick the station."

The words coming from his boss' mouth were so shocking that Greg froze, staring at the man behind the wheel. "You're joking, right?"

"No. Go ahead." He prodded. "I was serious."

"Oh man…you must _really_ feel sorry for me if you're letting me play _my_ music in the truck." Reaching for the radio, he shook his head. "My dad acted the same way when my dog died. He let me do whatever I wanted for a week. I ate so much chocolate, I was bound up for days."

"There's something I didn't need to know." From his cup holder, he grabbed his coffee and sipped. "If it makes you feel any better, my reason is selfish. We have a long day ahead of us and I want you in the best possible mood because it's bad enough that you're totally distracted."

"Okay, you asked for it." Flipping from the classical station the radio was always on, he tuned into his favorite station. "Oh, you'll love this," Greg sarcastically announced. "The Killers."

"How job appropriate." He was already regretting his generosity. "Let me guess…they're killing people with their music? Causing their ears to hemorrhage until they bleed out?"

"Give them a chance. They're locals from Vegas. The name implies a hard edge but, they're new wave, art rock. Very MTV…pop throwbacks to Duran Duran, Depeche Mode and The Psychedelic Furs, which are bands I'm sure mean nothing to you."

"No, and yet…I don't feel a sense of loss."

"Okay, on the radio they don't sound that special, but live, they're incendiary!" His excitement faded. "You hate it, right?"

"Absolutely."

"What are you going to do when you have a kid and he wants to listen to something other than opera or classical?"

"Buy him headphones."

"I don't get it. How can you be so objective about everything but so uber-judgmental about music?"

It was an excellent observation and he happily provided clarification. "I'm _professionally_ objective about everything but personally, I'm an opinionated snob about certain things: music, literature and underwear to name a few."

"Cheap underwear can ruin a guy's mood," He concurred before getting back to his point. "You know, one day you might want to dance with Sara. Then you'll appreciate something written in the late 20th century. You can't cozy up to a woman dancing to Mozart."

"For your information, I've already danced with Sara, and it wasn't to Mozart."

"I would have paid to see that."

"Yeah, that's why we danced in Colorado," He groaned.

"Were you any good?"

Grinning, he replied, "I asked her to marry me the next day and she said yes so, what do you think?"

Doing a little boogie in the truck, he boasted, "So that's how Groovin' Grissom got the girl."

"Don't ever call me that again, Greggo."

"Yes, Sir."

"Okay, that just makes me feel old," He grumped.

Thinking out loud, Greg said, "Do you realize that I'll be 49 when my child, if it ends up being my child, goes off to college, and you and Sara are hoping to_ have_ your first child when you're _49_? Wow. I've never thought of that until now."

"Me either." He snarled. "Thanks for pointing it out."

Sensing he had put his foot in his mouth, Greg offered a ray of hope. "Hey, any kid of yours and Sara's will no doubt be going early admission to college, so you'll only be sixty-seven tops."

"Was that supposed to make me feel better?"

**Highway 93  
****Warrick's Tahoe  
****5:59 a.m. **

"Are we ever going to talk about your comment in the locker room," Catherine prodded. "We've been sitting here listening to music for over twenty minutes, pretending like nothing is wrong."

"So let's talk about it." Although he really wasn't in the mood, since he was trapped in the truck with her, he didn't see an alternative. Sometimes it really stunk to work with your girlfriend. Today was one of those times, and he wished Grissom hadn't called everyone out to this scene. They'd be here all day in the 119 degree heat and tensions were bound to keep rising along with the temperature.

"You really think you're a guest in my home?"

He was quick to point out the obvious. "Baby, doesn't the fact that you refer to it as _your home_ make me a guest?"

"Ugh!" Racing her fingers through her hair, she struggled for a cogent thought. "So what are you saying? Are you unhappy with the arrangement?"

"I'm not unhappy…I'm…conflicted."

"What the hell does that mean?" Frustration mounting, she griped, "Why is this so difficult? How the hell could Gil and Sara peacefully cohabitate when they're so dysfunctional, but you and I can't figure it out? You know I don't like it when I can't figure something out!"

"Their situation was completely different." Following Grissom's Tahoe he turned off onto a dirt road. "Lindsay isn't my child, but you keep expecting me to parent her with you. The house is yours, but you're surprised when I feel like a guest. Wouldn't you feel awkward if the roles were reversed and you were me?"

"Aren't you happier now that we're living together than you were before?" Dropping the edge in her voice, she said, "I am."

"In a lot of ways yes, but in some ways…no."

His reply smarted. "In what ways?"

"I lost part of my identity when I became the guy who moved in with you."

"Is this some kind of male ego thing?"

When he saw the cop cars ahead, Warrick breathed a sigh of relief. "Looks like we're here."

"Great." No resolution again.

After parking next to Grissom, Warrick and Catherine hopped out and, in silence, headed over to Vartann, Grissom and Greg.

Now that they were all assembled, Grissom asked, "What are we looking at here?"

Vartann pointed to the two unnerved civilians standing in the shade of the decrepit brick 2-story, early 20th century building. "Harlan Marks, real estate developer, came out here at the crack of dawn to beat the heat and check out this property with the owner representative, Donna Pando. This particular building, known back in the day as Harper House, was a house of ill repute during the mining boom. Like everything else around here, it went bust when the mine did. It was a tourist attraction on the ghost town circuit for decades before being abandoned in the 80's…but apparently someone was still visiting. Mr. Marks and Ms. Pando discovered a few corpses in the basement…one of them pretty fresh. Had them puking their guts out. Said there were bugs all over it, so Grissom, I guess you'll be like a kid in a candy shop."

Catherine turned to her boss, "It's your lucky day, bug boy."

"Not so lucky for the deceased," He reminded her before turning to Greg. "You talk to Mr. Marks and Ms. Pando. Make sure you find out everywhere they went and what they touched. Ask for fingerprints, shoe prints, DNA and tire prints, so we know what to ignore."

"Will do." Without hesitation, he headed in their direction.

Grissom returned his attention to Vartann. "Keep everyone out unless I tell you otherwise."

"Phillips is running late." Vartann checked his watch. "It's suddenly turning out to be a busy day. Lucky us, we got sent to the middle of the desert in August."

"Stop your bellyaching, it's only going to be 119," Catherine snickered. "Only thing that makes a rotting corpse more fun…a heat wave." And working the case with your _conflicted _lover.

"Let's go." Grissom led the way with his kit in hand.

Catherine, as usual when stressed, talked incessantly. "So…this was a house of ill repute."

"It looks like it should be condemned," Warrick stated as he eyed the decaying structure. "Are you sure it's safe to go in here, boss?"

"You're not afraid of ghosts, are you Warrick?" He teased as he walked inside the lobby.

"Ghosts of prostitutes past." Catherine glanced around at the leftover décor. "This place looks like Lady Heather's grandmother could have ran it. Apparently time passes, but people's peccadilloes don't change. How much do you think it cost to get spanked back then?"

Not answering the question, Grissom ordered, "Let's head right to the basement for a preliminary of the bodies."

"No time to be wicked, huh?" Catherine joined him on the stairs. "Oh, I know, you can't wait to catch some bugs."

"And the killer." His eyes panned the area.

Flashlights on, one by one they descended into the dark, cob-webbed, rickety cellar.

"This is so macabre." Catherine loved every minute of it. "There has to be a reason the killer brought the victims or their bodies here. Some kind of message…maybe…"

"Damn it!"

Grissom and Catherine twisted around to check on Warrick.

Rubbing his forehead, he explained his dilemma. "Ceiling's four inches shorter than me."

Forgetting her irritation with him at the moment, Catherine quipped, "I guess size does matter, and you're too big for the job."

He didn't want to smirk, but it happened anyway.

Grissom, who was used to ignoring their banter, announced, "Over here." Shining his flashlight, he illuminated a woman's bug-infested body. "Check out the clothes and the leather boots."

Warrick gave his observation. "Looks like she could have been working Fremont Street."

Catherine flashed her light on the two skeletons stowed nearby. "Like I said…it's a message. Looks like somebody has a thing for prostitutes, the killer is bringing them back home to the brothel to rest. So far he's got three girls in his collection and I bet he's out there scoping number four."

Trying to get in closer to one of the skeletons, Warrick bumped against a large iron cabinet. "Damn it." He grabbed his elbow.

"What is with you today? You're like a bull in a China shop." Catherine asked. "What is that thing anyway?"

"A safe." Grissom informed then as he stood up. "They had to keep all the money that pumped through this place somewhere."

"Pumped…very clever." Catherine grinned.

He brushed a cob web from his face. "Let's head up, change into coveralls, grab the rest of the supplies and get to work."

**Crime Lab  
****6:57 a.m. **

"Morning, Nick," Sara breezed into the conference room for roll call. Although she preferred Grissom's more relaxed supervisory style, she was getting used to Nick's structured methodology, including his formal start to every shift. "Looks like I'm the first one here for the daily rumble."

Looking up from his pile of files, Nick replied, "Jas has the day off or she'd be here too. You know, she wants to be you. I can't believe how much you turned her around in a few days."

"I didn't have to do much, she's brilliant." Sara took a seat to the right of Nick. "She just needed an ally."

"And so did you."

"And you! Now there are three of us and three of them." She smiled. "One more and we've got control."

"Look at you…staging a coup." He tossed his pen on the table. "You should go on that Survivor show. You could win a million dollars."

"Haven't you heard?" Since they were alone in the glass enclosed conference room, she took the liberty to joke. "I got my Sugar Daddy to marry me so I don't need to compete for a million dollars. I just signed all the new paperwork from the lawyer yesterday. I'm now the sole heir to the Grissom fortune."

"Careful there gold digger…that sounds like motive." He laughed with her. "If we find Gris dead in the desert, I'm going to have to testify that I heard you say that…unless of course you pay me off."

"Okay stop, that's morbid." She shook off the creepy feeling.

"It's just crime humor." Redirecting, Nick asked, "Okay, what are you thinking as far as getting another ally?"

"Pete's our swing man."

"Pete?" He shook his head. "The guy thinks he should have my job. He's got a grudge."

"True but he's not inherently evil like Nina or a self-absorbed ass like Trey." Sara leaned in and spouted her theory. "He was wronged by Ecklie a couple of times and now he's untrusting. He throws a few barbs around to keep an alliance with Trey and Nina but he loathes them. We make him comfortable and you make it clear that you think he could be supervisory material one day…we can win him over from the dark side."

"And how do you propose we do that?"

"Well…that's the tricky part. I think we have to wait for the right opportunity to present itself and then convince him we're the good guys."

**Harper House  
****7:01 a.m. **

Grissom was perched over the bug-swarmed body, carefully selecting and labeling specimens while Catherine snapped photos and Warrick combed the floor of the filthy, cramped basement.

"Damn it!" Warrick cursed as he stood up with a perfectly captured boot print in his hand. "I swear the ceiling is lowering as the minutes pass."

Having quietly observed the tense dynamic between Catherine and Warrick for the last half hour, Grissom said, "The ceiling isn't moving. You're distracted."

Catherine hid her reaction behind her camera. Apparently they had been a little more obvious than she thought.

Trying to cover, Warrick grumbled, "Yeah…well…it's hot and cramped, plus the smell isn't helping. How many days on that girl?"

"Guessing, I'd say five." Grissom plunked another beetle in a jar. "But these guys will tell me for sure when we get back to the lab." After labeling the plastic tube, he dropped in the pants pocket of his coveralls.

"I got a good boot print." Bending down next to the boss, he showed him. "Obviously, it doesn't belong to Ms. Pando, but I don't recall the type of shoes Mr. Marks was wearing."

Grissom tilted his head up from the body to catch Warrick's eye. "Because you were distracted."

Warrick acknowledged the comment with a nod.

Catherine was happy to fill in the blank. "Mr. Marks was wearing wing tips, not boots. Italian leather to be exact.

Grissom caught Warrick's cringe then returned his focus to the body. "So someone else was in this basement." Sensing his team mate could use a short break from the tight quarters and the company, Grissom instructed, "Take that print up top, confirm it doesn't match anyone else's shoes and, while you're up there, grab some water for us."

"Will do." Grateful for the escape, he jumped up.

"Watch the…"

"Damn it!"

"…ceiling," Grissom finished his statement.

Catherine stared blankly at her flustered partner. Was he that upset? What's on his mind? My god…is he contemplating moving out?

"I'll be back in a few," he groaned while nursing the newest egg on his head.

"Be careful on the stairs," Catherine yelled from across the room. "I need you…" She purposely paused. "…in one piece. To um…help process this case so we can get the hell out of here as soon as possible."

"Yeah," he flatly replied before ducking and heading up the stairs.

Grissom glanced over at his friend and co-worker. "Something going on?"

"Apparently." Sighing, she crossed the room to join her boss.

Standing up, Grissom leaned against the safe. "When he comes back, I'll take a step out and give the two of you a minute to agree it's not going to interfere with this case."

"Understood."

Out of the blue, the whole building shook violently, sending a blanket of dust and dirt over them.

"What the hell was that?" Catherine gasped.

"I don't know." Grabbing his two-way radio, Grissom called to Greg. "What's going on up there?"

A second later, Greg replied, "Ms. Pando's truck was stuck in the sand and she had it in reverse when she floored it. Her Expedition is halfway in the building now. Punched right through the side wall."

"Thank god that's all it was." Catherine grabbed her chest. "I thought it was an earthquake." Then she realized Warrick could have been on the first floor. Grabbing the radio out of Grissom's hands, she shrieked, "Has Warrick come out of the building yet?"

Greg shouted, "Hold up, she's driving the truck out of the building and I can't hear." He paused. "Did you ask if I see Warrick?"

"Yes!"

"Uh…I don't…what the…holy…"

"Greg!" Catherine shrieked as she started for the stairs.

Lunging for her wrist, Grissom yelled, "Don't!"

**Crime Lab  
****Conference Room  
****7:17 a.m. **

At the head of the conference table, Nick was doling out assignments when Betty, Jim Brass's secretary, came barging into the room. "I'm sorry to interrupt but, we may have an urgent problem."

Nick dropped what he was reviewing and stood. "What's up?"

"Someone is hurt."

"What?" Nick pushed for details. "Where? In the lab? Who?"

"In the field." She handed him the piece of paper with the address. "It's a 444. I don't know who. I don't even know if it's a CSI but..."

Sara flew out of her chair and snatched the paper from Nick. "That's where Graveyard is working." Frantic, she pulled out her cell phone and tried to reach Grissom.

"All right, everybody let's roll." Nick headed out the door shouting orders. "Pete, you're with Sara and me. Trey and Nina ride together."

Rushing down the hall, Sara clicked off the phone. "Went to voice mail. I'll try paging him. Nick, you try Catherine."

"Let's not jump to any conclusions," Nick reminded as he tried to calm himself and dial up Catherine.

"I'll try Greg," Sara heatedly announced as they hurried into the parking lot.

"Catherine's phone went to voice mail."

"Nothing from Greg either."

Pete interjected an uncharacteristically positive thought. "Probably just out of area considering the locale…the mountains out there screw everything up."

"Right, I had the same problem at Dales Trail," Sara nodded, trying to convince herself that was the reason she wasn't getting a response. She hopped in the front seat of Nick's truck and Pete climbed in the back.

"Looks about a twenty minute drive," Nick warned, sensing Sara's building panic.

Grabbing the police radio, Sara announced, "The paper Betty handed you said Vartann made the emergency call. I'll try to raise him." After asking dispatch to put her through to Vartann's radio, she impatiently waited for a reply.

After ten excruciatingly long minutes, the dispatcher came back and said, "Detective Vartann is unavailable."

Building toward hysteria, Sara yelled into the radio. "Then put me through to anyone at the scene!"

"You have to calm down," Nick barked as he grabbed the radio. "We copy that Vartann is unavailable."

"Why isn't anyone answering!" Covering her mouth with trembling hands, she let her thoughts turn for the worst. "Something's happened to Grissom…to all of them maybe. Oh my god, Nick, he has to be okay. I had no life before we got together and we still have so much to…"

"Sara!" Nick corrected her. "You don't know that anything has happened to him. Yes, we know someone is down, but there are a lot of people out there. Grissom is the CSI supervisor on duty, he's got to be where he's needed. Right? And Vartann is in charge on the other side and he can't drop everything to talk to you. Right!"

"Right." She struggled to force that belief in her head. "I'll…uh…I'll try to stay calm."

In the backseat, apparently invisible to his two team mates in the front, Pete observed the emotional display thinking, the marriage isn't a joke, she really does care deeply about her boss turned husband.

"Perspective. I have to keep perspective here. You're right, Nick. I'm letting my mind get carried away and I'm not being rational." Just as Sara's breathing was returning to normal, she heard the chop of two air-evac emergency helicopter overhead followed by a barrage of sirens coming from behind. "Nick!" In an instant, her terror intensified once more. "That's a hell of a lot of back up for one minor injury!"

After pulling over the Tahoe to let the rescue vehicles through, he reached out and took her hand. "We're two minutes away. You need to hang in and stay positive."

"Okay. Okay." She trembled while watching the line of fire trucks and specialty vehicles whiz by. "Okay….stay positive. Um…so far no bomb squad. That's a good sign, right?"

Turning the truck back on the road, Nick smiled, "That's better."

Minutes later, when they turned off on the dirt road, Nick knew in his heart something was terribly wrong. There was too much activity for it to be something small. "Sara, I'm coming around, you stay right there," He instructed as he parked and hopped out of the truck.

Sara, not hearing a word Nick said, bolted from the truck.

Trey and Nina parked their Tahoe alongside and jumped out to meet Pete who was sliding out of the back of Nick's vehicle.

With Nick in hot pursuit, Sara raced toward the assembling mass of emergency workers. "Someone tell us what's going on! Where are the CSIs who were working the scene! Where's Vartann!" A cloud of dust enveloped the area and with all the noise and activity, it was impossible to make sense of anything. "What are they working on out here? Will someone answer me, god dammit!"

Nick grabbed her arm. "Stay calm! Let's find someone who knows what's going on and get the facts."

Pete saw Trey and Nina exchange curious glances and warned, "Don't even think about making a snide comment. Look at her! She's scared to death."

Rushing through the assembling emergency workers with Sara by the hand, Nick finally saw a familiar face. "Sanders! Over here, now!"

The second Greg's eyes met hers, Sara's heart stopped. "Don't..."

"Tell us what happened." From the look on Greg's face, Nick instinctively wrapped his arms around Sara from behind, preparing for the worst.

"We were…uh…" He averted his eyes. "One of the people who found the body, she was leaving and her truck got stuck in the sand so uh…she was throwing it back and forth from reverse to drive trying to get out. When it was in reverse she floored it into the building."

"Building?" Sara whispered through her tears while searching the area for the building in question. "Wh…? What building?"

Greg could barely get the words out. "She uh…put it into drive to pull out of the building, and when she did…the whole thing…" Shaking uncontrollably he said, "It was horrible…it collapsed in front of our eyes. We couldn't do anything but stand there and watch. When…when the dust settled…" He couldn't go on.

While tightening his grip on Sara, Nick took it upon himself to ask the question. "Where is Grissom?"

"He…he was in the basement of the building with Catherine when it happened." Hanging his head, he sadly reported, "We haven't heard from them since. I…"

"No." Sara refused the answer. "No!" Breaking free from Nick's embrace she ran through the gathering crowd of rescue workers. "Get out of my way!"

"Sara!" Nick chased her right to the edge of the danger zone. "Don't…"

"Get her out of here now!" A firefighter screamed as he watched the emotional scene unfold in front of him. "We don't need her getting nailed with the equipment we're unloading. No one goes near the site until we get a full analysis!"

"Oh god!" Standing before a pit full of brick, debris and swirling dust, Sara fell to her knees. "This can't be happening. This isn't happening!" The entire building was leveled and somewhere below the deep pile were her husband and Catherine. "No!"

"You can't stay here." Nick rushed to lift her to her feet. "You have to let them work. This is a _rescue _operation, Sara. Focus on the word_ rescue_."

Sobbing uncontrollably, she couldn't take her eyes off the destruction. "The basement…oh my god. How many levels…there's no way…"

Returning her to the safety zone, Nick took Sara's tear soaked face in his hands. "Stay with me. You know there is a way! Tell me what you know about building collapses. Use your head and think like a scientist. You lived in San Francisco, earthquake central. Come on…tell me. What happens when a building collapses? You _know _there are possibilities. You _know _that."

"Um…" Her breathing became more labored. "He's gone, Nick. I just talked to him two hours ago and now he's…" On the verge of hysteria she screamed, "It wasn't supposed to be like this! No! No!"

In silence, the Days crew and Greg watched the heartbreaking scene.

"Sara!" Nick gripped her shoulders and shook her. "Stop! Answer my question dammit! What can happen when a building collapses? Voids, Sara." If he could get her to think for herself it would be much more effective. "Tell me about voids!"

Finally she heard him. "Voids." She nodded as the tears kept flowing. "Voids…voids are…when a building…" Barely able to say the word, she whispered, "…collapses…voids are spaces created around large objects."

"Give me an example."

"Like being next to a car…the car can get…crushed…but if a person is curled up next to the car in a void, he can survive."

"Right." He shook her again. "Tell me more."

The more she spoke, the more she wanted to believe what she was saying. "People have been known to survive terrible disasters if they are in a void. Even if it looks…" Her eyes fixed on the remains of the building. "Even if it looks hopeless on the outside…people can be okay inside."

He smoothed her hair and spoke softly. "There are always stories like that after every disaster, right?"

"A few." She squeaked. "Triangle of Life stories."

"Good." He pointed towards the remains of the building. "We're getting one of those stories today. As of right now you don't think anything else. Understand? There will be a triangle of life story here."

"But we need two of those stories, Nick." She sniffled, trying desperately to cling to the hope he was offering. "Two voids. Two survivors. Two good stories."

"Wait." Nick looked over at Greg. "You said Catherine was with Grissom. You're here. Where's Warrick?"

* * *


	6. Chapter 6

**Caving Under Pressure – Part 6**

**August 4, 2005 (Day 104)  
****Harper House Accident Scene  
****7:45 a.m. **

"Where's Warrick, Greg?" Nick anxiously repeated as his heart pounded louder.

Still dazed, Greg finally heard the question and pointed straight ahead. "There."

When Nick and Sara turned, they saw a stretcher with a body covered in a white sheet and Vartann, standing beside it, talking on his radio.

"No!" The image and the potential for two more like it was more than she could bear and Sara flung her arms around Nick.

Greg dashed forward. "No! That's not Warrick! Warrick is alive! That's the cop who was standing next to the building when the truck pulled out." His voice faded into despair. "He was killed instantly. Right in front of me." Shuddering from the memory, he wrapped his arms around himself.

Feeling horrible to be glad it was someone else under the sheet, Sara and Nick tried to mask their relief while Greg redirected them. "Over there… sitting on the back of the ambulance getting treated. He was just coming out of the front of the building when it crumbled. Thankfully, only minor lacerations."

Sara and Nick didn't waste a minute rushing over.

"Warrick!" Sara yelled as she neared.

As soon as he heard her, he ran for her, meeting her and embracing her. "They're gonna be okay. I know it."

"Me too." In his arms, she found herself crying once more. "They have to be."

"That's right."

While steadying his breathing, Nick saw the incident commander leading an entourage of rescue personnel. "There's the man we need to see." He hustled over and joined the group, with Sara and Warrick following closely behind. "Sir…Nick Stokes, in lieu of Gil Grissom who is in charge for Jim Brass, I'm next in command for the Crime Lab. I've got two of my people trapped in that building, so I need to know what's going on."

"Then listen up," Commander Hawkins directed.

Nick turned to Sara and whispered, "You have to stay calm or they'll make you leave, got it?"

Unable to speak, she nodded vehemently while clinging to Warrick.

Hawkins slapped his whiteboard on the hood of a nearby police car and explained to his newly formed and expanding team. "Here's what we know so far. The truck crashed through the side of the building and then drove out, causing the loss of a critical interior weight bearing structure, in this case, a load bearing wall. The loss of that structure set off a chain reaction. We can only assume what happened next, based on the debris pattern and eyewitness statements. We believe the loss of the initial wall ultimately pulled down the ceiling of the first floor, which led to losing the other load bearing walls. Next, the second story and the roof came down, and the combined the weight of the two floors collapsed the first floor, leading to a full implosion of the building into the basement."

Sara fought to remain calm while furiously analyzing the facts in her head. A full implosion…very bad news. Implosion is worse than explosion because an implosion pulls the exterior walls into the center of the mass causing the entire building to collapse on itself, creating the highest density and depth of debris.

The Commander continued. "Our initial assessment indicates a pancake collapse pattern. All too common for buildings built before the 40's. They had the same thing happen in Rhyolite with a mining office building. However, for the moment, stability is adequate. We're waiting for the construction equipment to arrive. Once it does, we'll begin shoring up and start lifting debris. Due to the nature of the collapse, our only option is a steady overhead lift removal with constant shoring."

Once again, Sara ran the information through her overloaded brain. Pancake collapse pattern…worst scenario…all vertical supports fail, causing all the floors to collapse on one another…less chance for voids but, still can support plenty of them. It's also the most difficult and time consuming to search. Steady overhead lift removal was the safest method, but she also knew the dangers…people sometimes survive the initial collapse but perish during the rescue effort when rubble shifts. Don't go there, she warned herself. Positive thoughts only. Right now, Grissom and Catherine are down there waiting to be rescued.

Pointing at Warrick, the Commander said, "You provided locations of our two unaccounted for personnel." He grabbed a marker and drew a square on the whiteboard. "Here and here, correct?"

Clearing his clogged throat, he said, "Yes, Grissom was in the north east corner and…" He pushed her name out. "…Catherine was in the north west corner, when I was heading up the stairs." All he kept seeing was the look on Catherine's face and he wished he could take back that moment when she said she needed him. Why didn't I say anything other than, 'yeah'? What if…no! Stay positive. You'll continue that discussion with her. You will!

"You didn't notice any hazardous materials while you were down in the basement?"

"No." Warrick shook his head. "I covered the place real well. Mostly old furniture…desks, cabinets and there was an iron safe."

Sara breathed deep. Finally some good news….desks and iron safes create awesome voids! Using her visualization technique she learned in therapy, she closed her eyes and imagined Grissom and Catherine in perfect little voids just waiting for the Calvary. Unable to keep her mouth shut any longer, Sara asked, "What about seismic or acoustic listening devices? Or optical search equipment?"

"We're due for another seismic try in four minutes with what we have, and we have more sensitive equipment on the way. Our optical has a ten foot range, so we're going to need to move some debris before we can get close to their reported locations. Unless they tried to make it out of the building and weren't in those locations at the time of the collapse."

Nick gave Sara's arm a squeeze.

I'm hanging on." She whispered, "Barely, but I am."

The commander looked to his public works rep. "No gas lines or anything we need to worry about?"

"I've confirmed you're clear."

"Excellent. We needed some good news," The Commander replied. "Okay, Chief, have your search and rescue folks take another listen."

The Chief lifted his bullhorn. "I need a complete operational shut down in sixty seconds for a sound check. Crew take positions!"

Flanked by Warrick, Nick and Greg, Sara went as close to the site as allowed. Second by second, the area got quieter until she could hear only her breathing. The three taps went out, followed by a pause and then three more taps. Now it was time for the rescue worker to listen through his headphones. Her heart sank when he shook his head, confirming he got nothing back on any of the six sensors.

"One more time," The Chief instructed.

With baited breath, Sara watched the procedure again and once more, nothing was received in return.

"Doesn't mean anything," Nick confidently told Sara and Warrick. "They could be too deep, they could be talking to each other and not hear the taps. Once the heavy moving begins they'll know we're up here and they'll know when we get quiet. That's when they'll hear it. And like the Commander said, better equipment is coming in soon."

Warrick and Sara nodded in sync as they felt they were required to do to mask the doubt returning to haunt them.

Over the bullhorn, the Chief yelled, "Resume operations."

Pete slowly approached. "Is there anything you want us to do, Nick?" He asked on behalf of himself, Nina and Trey.

"Um…just hang tight for now," He replied as he saw the construction vehicles approaching. "Now we'll get somewhere. Two cranes will have that pile cleared in no time." Throwing his arm over Sara's shoulder, he optimistically said, "They'll be out of there by dinnertime."

"Yeah." Sara inhaled sharply, appreciative of Nick's efforts. "I'll even offer to make him a hamburger if he…" Once again the façade cracked and her eyes began to fill. "You know…I think I…I need to take a few minutes away from here. I'll uh…I'll be in the truck." She began walking away, but after a few strides she dashed toward the row of Tahoes.

Nick let her go and told Greg, who was gravely concerned about her, "She needs to let that out." Then he turned to Warrick. "How are you doing?"

"Not too good." The agony of the unfinished conversation and unresolved tension with Catherine weighed heavy. "I'm taking a walk."

"Understood," Nick nodded. "I'm going to take one too and find out as much information as possible."

Sara was just about to get in Nick's truck when she saw Grissom's Tahoe twenty feet away and decided that's where she'd rather be. Shaking like a leaf, she opened the door and climbed into his seat, shutting the door behind her.

Immediately she felt something underneath her…his shirt…the beige one she had watched him button last night, the one he was wearing when he kissed her…goodbye. That kiss was supposed to last twenty hours, not a lifetime. Sobbing harder, she brought the shirt to her face. It smelled like him and for a moment she closed her eyes and pretended he was there. No longer was she a scientist analyzing the odds of a void in a pancake pattern implosion. She was a heartsick wife, whose husband of only eight days was buried beneath tons of rubble.

Clutching the shirt, she unleashed her anguish.

If he doesn't make it…I'm alone again. Alone like I've always been. Alone because he'll be gone and we never had a chance to…have a baby.

In a flash, her deepest fear shed light on her recent behavior. All this time I was pushing to have the pregnancy work quickly, I thought it was for fear we're getting older and couldn't waste time. That wasn't it. I needed a baby to make sure I'd always have a part of him…so if something happened to him, I'd never truly be without him…never truly be alone. But now…he may be gone and I'm not pregnant and…_he_ won't live on…_we _won't live on.

No…he has to make it. She scolded herself for even thinking otherwise. I've lost so much in my life, I don't deserve this. I've given so much in my life, it isn't fair to take him away from me. Her words to Greg yesterday echoed in her head… _Bad things happen to good people all the time. You never know when your luck will change. _There is no rhyme or reason to life's twists of fate. And like she learned when the pregnancy test came up negative, desire alone can't make something happen.

Remembering the note she had stuffed in her pocket earlier, she retrieved it, hoping it would raise her sinking spirits.

Immediately a sentence popped out at her…

_Wherever I am when you're reading this, I guarantee I'm missing you._

Her tears silently flowed as she looked out the window toward the search area. "I'm reading…now miss me enough to make it back to me."

Another two words jumped off the page…

_Yours forever_

Whose forever? His? Mine? I'm not ready for it to end. Her mind drifted back to that special night when he gave her the diamond ring and she spoke from her heart…

_And there will be an end. We know it's inevitable. But it will be a natural end and the teardrop, a tear of joy cried by…you or me…while looking back and recalling the beautiful moments we shared…_

That night was a beautiful moment and there had been so many beautiful moments since then, but now, faced with the truth that the natural end could be near, it didn't seem enough. It didn't seem right. It wasn't natural, it was untimely and cruel. Maybe that's why I'm not shedding only one tear drop but legions. It's _not_ time. He's alive. He's coming back to me. Yes! In my heart I _know_ it's not time.

But…why didn't he hear the taps? It was hard to believe he was okay without evidence.

Then it hit her. Maybe he couldn't hear them! He keeps putting off his hearing test. Is he putting it off because he knows something is wrong? Maybe he _can't_ hear the taps! That's it. It was the straw she needed and she clung to it like white on rice. He's down there alive. I _know_ it.

After stuffing the note back in her pocket, with Grissom's shirt firmly in hand, she flung open the door and rushed back to the site. "Nick!" She looked around for him. "Nick!"

"Over here, Sara." He called as he hurried to meet her. "You okay?"

"Yes!" Nodding frantically, she relayed her renewed hope. "In my gut I know he's okay." She enthused while clutching the shirt like a security blanket.

"Awesome, Sara." He threw his arms around her. "You stay in this zone." He didn't care how she got there, but he was going to encourage her positive outlook. "We're going to see him alive and well in no time."

"Sara?" A recognizable voice from the past called out.

When she lifted her head out of Nick's chest, she saw a familiar face to match the voice. "Hank?" Of all the times for a bad memory. "What are…?"

Nick recognized the guy. "Peddigrew, right? I thought you were an EMT."

"I was but I'm search and rescue now." He shoved his hands in his pockets. "Which means, I stand by until they need me to extract survivors. Most of the time it's mountain or lake calls…hiking or boating accidents. Not usually buildings."

He wasn't exactly the person she wanted to rely on in time of need and her voice reflected her disapproval. "When it's time…."

"I know those are your co-workers and I…"

"Not just my co-workers." She snapped. "My husband's down there and you…."

"Whoa." Nick sensed there was more to the situation than he knew. "You biting the guy's head off for a reason?"

"Let's just say that I'd feel more comfortable _trusting _someone else with the job."

Hank knew her reaction was justified. "Sara, I understand where you're coming from and, if you want me to tell my boss to get someone else, that's cool, but I guarantee you, when the time comes, I'll give it two-hundred percent, because it's the very least I owe you and I've got something to prove."

After carefully considering his words, she finally said, "Don't disappoint me."

Nodding, Hank returned to his truck to wait.

Once again, the Chief raised his bullhorn. "I need a complete operational shut down in sixty seconds for a sound check. Crew, take positions!"

"Let's go." Nick took Sara's hand and led her back toward the group's position at the safety boundary. "The acoustical equipment arrived while you were in the truck."

Upon hearing the Chief's command, Warrick, having cleared his head the best he could, returned as well.

In silence they waited together, hoping for a different outcome than the last time.

When the taps went out, Sara brought Grissom's shirt to her chest and closed her eyes because she feared her optimism would drain if she saw the rescue worker shake his head in disappointment. But her action didn't protect her, as Nick's hand dropped on one shoulder, and Greg's on the other, she knew the moment had just come and gone.

"Run it again!" The Chief boomed.

Opening her eyes, Sara watched the process this time, and when the rescue worker lifted his arm and nodded affirmatively, she gasped and gripped Grissom's shirt tighter. "Did he…"

"Yes." Warrick's eyes widened. "I think he heard something."

"Again!" The Chief instructed.

Thirty seconds later, the rescue worker gave a strong nod and announced, "I got one set of taps coming back each time from sensor two."

The jubilation ensued, and for a moment the hope seemed endless, until Sara and Warrick looked each other in the eyes and he said, "Only_ one_ set. They weren't together when I left them."

"It's okay," She confidently replied, "they're together now, or they're communicating and only one of them is responding for both."

"Right." He clung to the optimism in her eyes. "That's got to be it."

The Chief, with renewed vigor, shouted into the bullhorn, "Resume operations!"

A few minutes later, Nick headed over alone for a detailed report. "Can you pinpoint the location?"

"Approximately…" The commander pointed on his whiteboard. "They were last reported in the far corners of the north side. The sound is coming from the north central."

"So maybe they got together before the collapse to take cover."

The Chief countered, "Or, they were heading for the stairs and that's where they got stuck. Or one of them stayed put and one of them made it to the middle. What I'm saying is, be careful when you deliver the message. We've got two missing people and only one response. At this point, it could mean a lot of things."

"Okay."

Checking his watch, the Chief said, "It's almost ten. As soon as we get some more of the debris lifted, we'll be able to snake two-way communication listening devices and then eventually fiber-optics. If the removal continues to go well, then we can try in an hour. Until then…remain _cautiously_ optimistic that they are both doing well." In no uncertain terms he shared the reality of the situation. "Stokes, it's best if you and your staff remain cautiously optimistic until you see your missing team members standing in front of you, because these extractions are unpredictable. One minute all is well and the next you've got a cave in."

"Understood." Across the desert landscape he saw Sara and Warrick standing side by side, in front of Greg, Trey, Pete and Nina. The thought of only one survivor ripped at his soul. Catherine had Lindsay to care for, and Sara, after a lifetime of heartache, didn't need any more. One survivor is not acceptable. Today the only acceptable number is two. With that number in his heart and the chief's words in his head, he rejoined the group.

"What did he say?" Sara hoped for specifics.

"They've pinpointed the area the taps came from and they're going to try and establish two-way communication as soon as they lift a little more rubble." Forcing a supportive smile, he said, "I bet Cath and Gris are going to have a lot to say when given the chance."

Warrick let nervous laughter take over. "You know Cath always has something to say."

"She's probably driving him crazy down there," Sara replied, trying to lighten the somber mood.

Greg, for the first time, felt a ray of hope and spoke. "If you really want to bug Grissom, pipe in The Killers' Somebody Told Me. We were listening to it on the radio on the way out here. He would probably start digging out on his own just to escape."

Stunned by the statement, Sara said, "Grissom let_ you_ pick the radio station?"

"Yeah." Fully smiling, he recalled the moment. "He was feeling sorry for me stressing over Tawny and was trying to cheer me up. We were bonding." Hoping to make her feel better, he relayed more details. "He told me about dancing with you in Colorado and when I asked him if he was a good dancer, he lit up and said, I asked Sara to marry me the next day and she said yes, so what do you think?"

Nick built on the positive vibe. "I can't wait to see you and Grissom dancing at my wedding."

"I can't believe he was talking about that with you, Greg." In an instant Sara filled with joy.

"He never used to talk about anything personal, Sara." Greg stated. "But now he can't stop talking about you. I bet he's down there right now singing your praises to Catherine, who is wishing he'd shut the hell up."

Warrick shook his head. "Yeah, she'll want him to be quiet so she can complain about me. We…we were arguing over the stupidest thing before this happened."

Nick elbowed his friend in the ribs. "Then you know she's making it out of there just to chew your ass out."

"You know it."

Trey, Pete and Nina stood off to the side watching the camaraderie like they were observing life on another planet.

Wanting to know every last detail of Grissom's day, Sara asked, "Warrick, tell us about the case. About what you guys were doing in the basement."

Deciding it would be a good way to pass the time and keep their minds occupied, he obliged. "Three vics, one fresh. Your old man was having a great time with the bugs."

"I bet." Unraveling Grissom's crumpled and tear-stained shirt, she tied it around her waist, letting it hug her in lieu of him. "Like a kid in a candy store, no doubt."

Nick joked, "I bet Grissom would have passed up candy for bugs as a kid."

"Definitely," Sara confirmed while chuckling. "Even now there are only a couple of life's pleasures he finds more exciting than bugs."

They took a moment to laugh that one through before Warrick continued.

"We assumed the vics, based on their clothing and considering they were found in this old brothel, were all prostitutes. We're thinking serial killer. I got a clean boot print. That's what I was doing when I left the basement." His upbeat mood took a nose dive. "Grissom sent me out to compare the print and to let me get some air because of the thing with Cath. I should have been down there too."

For the first time, Nick noticed a barrage of media personnel trying to get closer to the scene. "Look who's here. Hoping for something grisly no doubt." Searching the area, he yelled, "Where the hell is the PIO for this incident? Someone needs to control the newshounds."

"Wait!" Sara barked. "We can use the media!"

Not tracking her, Nick asked, "How are they going to help with the extrication?"

"Not the extraction." A new expression appeared on her face…vengeance. "To catch the killer. To catch the bastard that put those bodies in that building, because the killer is ultimately responsible for anything that happens to Grissom and Catherine. They wouldn't be in there if the killer didn't leave the bodies there."

Warrick caught on. "You think the killer will show up at the scene if he hears about the accident?"

"Yes." Cinching Grissom's shirt a little tighter around her waist, she explained, "Serial killers never want to get caught. They find their niche and then live out their dream, growing more confident with every kill. This guy…he goes after prostitutes and then brings them here. He's gonna pissed when he finds out someone interrupted his plans. Those bodies are prizes to him. This location meant something to him. Now it's all gone and he'll want answers."

Shocked that Sara would even be thinking about the case during the tragedy, Pete, Trey and Nina, moved closer to make sure they were hearing correctly.

Nick folded his arms across his chest. "So you think if the story gets play on the TV and radio stations, our killer will rush out here."

"If he hears about it, I guarantee it." Sara nodded with conviction. "We spread out and blend with the growing crowd of lookie-lous until we find people who could fit the profile. We start talking. The killer will want to talk…he'll want details. We may even know what kind of boots he wears, right Warrick?"

"I left the print in the back of the ambulance." He hustled off in that direction.

Pete took a step forward. "Nick and Sara, you have your hands full. How about I lead this?"

After glancing at Sara, Nick replied, "Great idea. Thanks for stepping up." Cupping his hands, Nick shouted, "Hey Vartann, we have something we want to run by you!"

**11:25 a.m. **

KTBC reporter Ana Silva readied for her live shot. "Do you have the cranes in the background?" She asked her cameraman. "People love seeing that heavy-duty machinery crap almost as much as they love blood and gore."

"I've got cranes_ and,_ even better, I've got sweaty rescue workers…that will help us keep the ladies at home glued to their sets. I'll count you down in five." With his fingers, he signaled.

"This is Ana Silva reporting to you live from the scene of a building collapse just south of Boulder City. Police and Crime Scene Investigators were called here early this morning to investigate the_ grisly_ discovery of a _decaying_ body, but they got much more than they bargained for." Taking a few steps, she pointed to the rescue effort. "Harper House, a historic building and legendary house of _ill repute_ back in the mining days, used to be directly behind me. However, a freak accident around seven a.m. caused the building, where the _rotting corpse_ was hidden, to suddenly collapse. It saddens me to report one officer, whose name hasn't yet been released, was _killed_, and still _trapped_ inside is Vegas' top Crime Scene Investigator, Gil Grissom. Workers have been toiling for hours to locate and rescue him but still have a lot of _dangerous _work ahead. We'll be coming to you live with updates as news breaks. This is Ana Silva from KTBC, Las Vegas' news leader."

Pulling out her ear piece, Ana walked to the police barrier. "Okay, Vartann, how much longer until I get the name of the KIA cop?"

"You know the drill, Ana. Still waiting on next of kin," He informed her. "I know you like names and faces to up the human interest on your stories." Catherine's name was out of the question because they had to protect her daughter from being alarmed. The only reason he could provide Grissom's name was his next of kin was on site. "You'll have it when we can give it." With a healthy dose of sarcasm, he quipped, "By the way, I love how you accent all the juicy words when you do your reports. It's like having Cliff Notes…grisly, killed, corpse, trapped, dangerous…I mean really, what else does the public need to know?"

"I'm the best, Baby." Ana strutted back to her news van and snipped at her cameraman, Ed. "It's friggin' 117 degrees already. Call me if anything happens. I'll be in the van blasting the air."

Vartann walked over to the CSIs gathered just behind the safety tape marking the accident site. "TV reporters all got the information. Bulletins have been faxed to the Radio stations."

"Good." Sara was pleased that Vartann backed their plan and would provide the backup Pete and the team needed. "This is really helping me keep my mind off the fact that it seems like they're making no progress with the extrication."

"Sara you know they have to take it slow," Nick cautioned her for the tenth time this hour. "I know the waiting is hard but, it's better than them being sloppy, right?"

"Of course I logically know that." Wiping the sweat off her forehead, she spoke softly. "How hot do you think it is in the basement? Warrick, you said they didn't have any water."

"None." He somberly shook his head. "But it has to be a lot cooler down there than it is out here. And obviously they're protected from the sun."

Finally, they heard the chief announce the next sound check. "I need clearance for the aerial ladder truck. Operational shut down at noon." After he was done, he walked over to brief Stokes and the CSI team, who he knew were on edge. "We're moving in the aerial truck because we're going to extend the ladder to get one of our communications guys positioned over the center of the site where we heard the taps. He's going to snake down a two-way listening device. It will pick up anything down there, even if it's just breathing. So hang tight."

After pushing dreadful thoughts out of her mind for hours, Sara felt them starting to creep back and then suddenly they attacked. No longer could she rationalize that Grissom couldn't hear the taps if there was no response. "If they don't hear anything…not even breathing…what will we know then? I wanted this moment to come and now it's scaring me to death because we may not hear anything. If we don't hear anything does that mean they're…" Shaking out the tension in her hands, she whimpered, "I want to stay positive, I really do but I'm getting that sinking feeling again. Plus it's so hot…I can't...I need air." Her breathing became labored and she gulped for oxygen. "Nick…I don't feel so good." Clutching her head, she continued gasping.

Helping her down on the ground, Nick, warned, "Sara, you need to calm down. You're hyperventilating."

"How about some more water?" Nina suggested while heading off. "I'll grab a few more bottles."

"No!" Greg had another idea. "She needs a paper bag. Grab one from the truck!" Kneeling down next to her, he rubbed her back. "Come on, Sara. Try to relax."

**11:32 a.m. **

From his position next to the news van, eagle-eyed Ed the camera guy noticed the meltdown happening in front of the rescue site. Knocking on the window, he alerted the news diva cooling her jets inside. "We've got drama."

Upon hearing her favorite word, _drama_, Ana jumped out. "Zoom in on it and run tape. I'll try to get the scoop and, if it's good enough, maybe the station will carry this as a noon lead-in. Play it cool so the other bozos don't catch wind."

Waltzing over to the youngest rookie-looking cop she could find guarding the crime scene tape, Ana popped open another button of her blouse. "Hey there, cutie." She lowered her designer sunglasses and checked his badge. "Officer Lopez." Holding out her hand, she smiled provocatively. "Ana Silva, KTBC."

The young man tried to maintain his dignity while salivating. "Sorry, I can't let you behind the tape, Miss."

"No, no, of course not." Giggling she grinned, "I'd never ask a man in a position of authority to do something he wasn't supposed to do." Now that she had finished pumping the kid's ego, she pointed towards the emotional woman near the rescue site. "I was just so concerned about that poor woman over there. She looks so distraught. Do you know who she is?"

Glancing over his shoulder, the rookie said, "I've only been on the job for a few weeks so I don't know her personally but, she's Gil Grissom's wife, Sara. She works for the Vegas Crime Lab too. They only got married like a week ago and it's been the talk of the station."

Realizing she hit the jackpot, Ana winked. "Well I hope she's going to be okay. Thank you, Officer." To oblige him for his ignorant generosity, she wiggled while she walked away.

"I love you on the news, Ms. Silva!" He yelled out.

Without looking back, she waved and made a beeline for her cameraman. "Bingo, Baby!" She fluffed her hair. "Every other reporter is snoozing in their truck while we've got the _wife_ of the _trapped guy_ having a _nervous breakdown_ on tape! And they've only been married a week! The public loves a _romantic tragedy_!" Taking her position, she held up the microphone and wiped the smile off her face. "Ana Silva reporting from the site of the _Harper House Tragedy_, where _tensions_ are rising along with today's _scorching_ temperature. There's still no word on the condition of Gil Grissom, the _trapped _crime scene investigator and it's taking a _devastating_ _toll _on his new bride, Sara, who is also a valued member of the Las Vegas Crime Lab…"

**11:38 a.m.**

Removing the open paper bag from her mouth, Sara murmured, "I'm okay." Of course she was referring to the status of her breathing, not her fragile mental state. "Thank you for the bag. It was just what I needed."

"Maybe you need something stronger than a paper bag," Nina calmly advised. "How about a valium? I have some in my purse."

Pete shot her a nasty look.

"What!" Nina returned the unwelcome glare. "Oh, get off my case! That's not a put-down, I'm serious! For Christ's sake, could she _be_ under anymore stress? It's obvious that she loves the man! She just had a full blown panic attack over the thought of losing him and it's not because of the money because if he dies while working she'll get double indemnity! So, yes, I feel bad and for once I want to be nice. Sue me! Hell, if valium wasn't made for this mind-blowing situation, what the hell was it made for?"

Pete provided the words to support his body language. "It wasn't the sentiment, it was the fact that you, a CSI, offered _your _prescription drug to someone else. That's illegal."

"Oh." Smiling at Sara, Nina said, "I meant to say, do you need a feminine protection product? I have some in my purse."

Nick helped Sara up. "I think that's probably an excellent idea." If the next sound check showed no signs of life, or only Catherine's life, Sara was going to need a lot more than a Valium, but at least it would be a start. And Nina's purse was a lot quicker than calling Doc, phoning a pharmacy and picking something up.

Nina took Sara by the elbow.

Greg grabbed a bottle of water. "To go with the…uh…feminine thing."

**LVPD  
****Lunch Room  
****12:00 p.m. **

The TV in the corner of the room blared and the plethora of concerned crime lab employees and cops watched to see if there would be any coverage of the disaster in the field.

When the KTBC intro came on, the entire room went from a roar to a hush.

_Our top story today, a murder investigation turned disaster! I'm Kim Thompson. And I'm Thomas Church. As we reported earlier, the death toll is holding at one, and we're waiting to hear if there's been progress on rescuing the trapped crime scene investigator. More from Ana Silva who is on the scene…_

_Ana Silva reporting from the site of the **Harper House Tragedy**, where **tensions** are rising along with today's **scorching** temperature. There's still no word on the condition of Gil Grissom, the **trapped **crime scene investigator and, as you can see, it's taking a **devastating toll** on his new bride, Sara, who is also a valued member of the Las Vegas Crime Lab. Take a look at this tape shot moments ago…_

From the table closest to the TV, Betty, Jim Brass's secretary, shrieked to her lunch mates, "Oh my goodness, look at poor Sara! I just want to give her a hug!"

"Whoa…she's a wreck." Mabel observed. "If we weren't pulling a double, I'd go down there myself and give her a hug."

"After everything you've said about her, I doubt she'd want a hug from you." Placing her hands over her heart, Theresa sighed, "Look…she really does love Mr. Grissom."

"Wow…I feel like shit for talking about them," Mabel lowered her head in shame. "All those nasty things I said about her."

Theresa nodded. "I need to go to confession on the way home from work."

_We heard the Incident Commander announce that there will be yet another sound check at noon. We're told more sensitive equipment has arrived which should tell us definitively if anyone is alive under that **horrific** **pile of mortar and brick**. For **newlywed** Sara Grissom's sake…let's hope they hear something. I'm Ana Silva reporting from the scene of the **Harper House Tragedy** for KTBC, Las Vegas' news leader._

_Thank you, Ana. Well, Thomas, let's hope we get a happy ending to this story…_

Theresa used her cafeteria napkin to swipe away a tear. "If he doesn't make it I'll never live down this guilt no matter how many Hail Marys I say!"

Betty grabbed her napkin and joined in, sniffling, "This is the greatest LVPD love story of all time. It's practically Shakespearian! Two people work side by side for years, then finally find love and marry only to be torn apart a week later."

"You ladies want brownies?" Mabel offered as she got up from the table. "I'm in serious need of some chocolate."

* * *


	7. Chapter 7

**Caving Under Pressure – Part 7**

**August 4, 2005 (Day 104)  
****Harper House Accident Scene  
****12:01 p.m. **

When Sara emerged from the portable restroom in the rescue team relief area, she saw Nina standing under the large white tent extending a bottle of scented hand sanitizer.

"What _don't_ you have in that purse?" Sara curiously asked, since she had already received a Valium and a Tampax from the same source.

"I'm the baby girl in a family of five boys, so I learned early on how to be a good Boy Scout and _be prepared_."

"Ah." Sara squirted the waterless soap in the palm of her hand and returned the bottle. Immediately she was struck by the overpowering scent. "What kind is this?"

"Warm vanilla sugar."

"I thought it smelled like sugar cookies." The memory flooded her…

_It was a beautiful January day and the bedroom of Sara's apartment was overflowing with half-packed boxes as she cheerily readied for the move into the new house with Grissom. Taking advantage of her two full days off, she was determined to pack as much as possible because her lease was up at the end of the month and she couldn't wait to start her new life away from this old apartment. _

_When she heard her apartment door open, a smile exploded on her face. To think there was a time when Grissom wouldn't come within miles of her apartment and now he had his own key and sailed in any time. "I'm in the bedroom." She continued emptying her drawers while anticipating his entrance. _

"_You've been busy." He stated while maneuvering through the boxes to reach her. _

"_I'm highly motivated." She dropped the pile of sweaters she was holding into a box and then tossed her arms around his neck. "I can't wait to get out of this place and move to **our** place." After so many empty years she was finally going to have what she craved…love and security and she was getting it from a man she adored._

_The twinkle in her eyes, as always, fired his desire and he pulled her close. "Wow…what are you wearing? You smell fantastic!" Any intellectual thoughts he had, floated out of his brain as the appetizing aroma wafted in through his nose._

"_Do I smell like sugar cookies?" She giggled as he nibbled on her ear. "The sales clerk at Bath and Body Works said this Vanilla Bean Noel stuff drives guys wild." _

"_It's definitely working on this guy," He half-laughed, half-growled as he tugged at the neck of her turtleneck sweater. "Why are you wearing this bulky thing!" _

"_It's January!" _

"_In Vegas!" Frustration powered his voice. "It's sixty-five outside!" _

"_Well if it's bothering you…" Laughing, she rid herself of the cumbersome romance-impeding garment. "There." While posing before him in her black lace bra and jeans, she coyly asked, "Better?" _

_Finally able to access her neck, he answered her question with his face buried in its nape, "Much." _

_Walking backwards toward the bed, she quipped, "Why do I have a feeling my packing efforts are about to be waylaid?" Four months into their physical relationship she recognized the telltale signs…his mind was on one track and even the mention of a bug convention down the block wasn't about to derail him. _

"_Sorry, would you like me to go?" He asked, while playfully tossing her down on the bed and covering her body with his. "Because I can go if you want to resume packing." Enticed by the heavenly scent, he let his mouth wander over the sweetness of her sugary skin. "Or I could stay for a while, and help you pack later." _

"_You mean help me pack **after**." Placing her hands on his shoulders, she held him at arms length. "Maybe you should go, because I have a lot of work to do and my rigid boss won't like it if I have to ask for more time off." _

_Grinning, he replied, "Sounds like your boss needs to release a little tension." _

"_So it would appear." Chuckling, she tried to slip out from under him. _

"_You won't be able to dismiss me so easily when we're living together," He warned as he rolled on his back, pulling her on top of him and sending a half-packed box tumbling to the floor. _

"_I just packed that box!" Straddling him, she faked irritation. "Really…are you that out of control?" _

"_If you don't like this reaction then I suggest you don't wear this cookie lotion that makes me crumble at first sniff." His hands on her hips, he watched her, and appreciated every gorgeous feature of her face and body. "I'm telling you, the smell makes you irresistible. **Never** wear it to work." _

"_I see." Her voice dropped to a sexy octave. "So when I want you to come running to me, I know what to do…douse myself with sugar cookie lotion."_

"_Absolutely. You know my sensitive nose…I'll smell it a mile a way." His fingertips traced the edge of her jeans against her waist while intensely looking into her eyes. "Have you made up your mind? Do you want me to leave or do you want me to stay?" _

_Pressing her body to his, she whispered, "From now on, any time I smell like sugar cookies, it's secret code for…I want you in my arms." _

_Their lips about to meet, he replied, "I can't think of another place I'd rather be." _

"Are you okay, Sara?" Nina inquired when she noticed the color pouring out of Sara's face. "Are you feeling faint again?"

Lowering her hand from her nose, she replied in an empty voice, "I…I just remembered something and got lost in thought."

"Smell is the strongest trigger of memory."

"Yeah." Sucking in as much fresh air as her lungs would allow, Sara started walking back to the accident site. "Hopefully they're almost ready for the next sound check." Unlike before, she was eagerly _anticipating,_ not dreading, the placement of the two-way microphone into the rubble.

When she resumed her place in front of the caution tape, her spirits sank. "I thought they said noon for the sound check?" She checked her watch again even though she just checked it ten seconds ago. "It's ten after."

Realizing the Valium would need at least another five minutes to kick in, Nick offered supportive words, "Noon was an approximation. You know the motto…safety is the number one concern. They only move when they know it's safe for personnel. It doesn't mean anything is wrong."

"Okay."

Warrick's eyes were fixed on the guy climbing out on the extended ladder of the fire truck. "Actually, it looks like he's getting ready." The communications specialist methodically maneuvered the listening device encased in PVC pipe through the openings in the rubble, adjusting and re-trying as necessary to get a clean insertion.

Everyone lined up against the caution tape watched in silence, letting their thoughts occupy them while waiting for the moment of truth.

"It won't be long now," Greg announced to no one in particular. After the events of the last five hours, Tawny's surprise pregnancy hardly seemed like a problem anymore and he thought, how amazing that perspective can change in a blink of an eye. A baby, no matter how unexpected, isn't a tragedy. What I saw this morning were tragedies: a police officer losing his life, a building collapsing before me with Grissom and Catherine trapped inside. And heartache isn't the news of an unplanned baby on the way, no, heartache would be telling a thirteen year old girl her mom unexpectedly died at work today, or watching the pain in Sara's eyes if she found out Grissom was lost forever. "They're going to hear both of them this time," He stated to convince himself and everyone around him.

"That's right." Nick tightly folded his arms across his chest, bracing himself for the worst while hoping for the best. In these quiet moments he kept coming back to the same questions…what if it was me in there...what if Carrie was out here wondering if I was dead or alive? And the questions brought him to the same conclusions every time. Life is so unpredictable. I'm so thankful Carrie and I found each other. I'm so glad I proposed when I did. If I hadn't proposed last week I would today because time is too precious to waste. Grissom and Sara need more time together. Lindsay needs more time with her mom. Warrick is being strong but I know he's barely holding on. I can't stand the thought of losing today. I don't want Sara's heart to break before my eyes. I don't want to hear Warrick telling Lindsay her mom is gone. It can't happen. It will not happen.

In the silence Warrick beat himself up over the argument for the hundredth time. Why did I let her believe I wanted out? I know that's what she was thinking. It was the last thing I saw in her eyes before I bolted up the stairs….before I left her down there…before the building came crashing down on her. The images of her trapped…or hurt…or dead tore him apart. I don't want to lose her. I don't want to have to sit Lindsay down and tell her she'll never see her mom walk through the door again. Lindsay was in a fight with her too, she'll feel like me… the last words I said to Catherine were out of spite and the three words I needed to say…I love you…were left unsaid. I'm not ready for this. Who is ever ready for this? Sara isn't ready for this. What will I do if they find Catherine alive and Grissom dead? How will I hide my joy that Catherine is safe while Sara's heart breaks before my eyes? I'm not ready for that. Who is ever ready for that?

Coiling her hands around the ends of Grissom's shirt, which was still firmly wrapped around her waist, Sara pushed every negative thought from her mind and filled the space with wonderful memories…memories of joyful smiles exchanged, tender words uttered, and loving embraces shared. Then she passed the time by remembering all the firsts…the first time he smiled at her triggering a pang of desire, the first time they had one of those awkward moments which went undiscussed, the first time they accidentally touched and a delightful shiver surged through her, the first time they kissed after so many years of longing to let their lips meet, the first time they made love and how they were both so excited and scared because they wanted it so much, the first time she woke up in his arms and realized it wasn't all a dream, the first time she cried in his arms and he gave her the protection she desperately needed.

There were so many firsts, but her mind drifted back to one in particular, the first kiss in her apartment the day she was packing for San Francisco. Life seemed hopeless that day and then Grissom showed up at her door and changed everything. Life can change in an instant, she reminded herself. It can be taken away, but it can also be given back. Right now life seems hopeless, but it's going to change again. Grissom is going to show up again. There are too many firsts we have to experience and the last thing I want to do today is say goodbye. I can't say goodbye. It seems like we just said hello. Please…don't let this be goodbye. Let them _both_ be okay.

Once the pipe was completely inserted, the Chief raised his bullhorn, "Silence for acoustic check." After giving the order, he walked over and stood in front of the concerned CSI team and let them listen to his radio.

When everyone quieted as instructed, Sara and Warrick heard the communication specialist's outgoing words over the chief's radio. "Gil and Catherine, I'm Travis Scott with the search and rescue team, I have a microphone in place. If you're able, verbally respond back to me with a status. If you can't verbally respond, then tap three times to confirm you hear me. Over."

After what seemed like an eternity but was probably sixty seconds tops, they heard Travis' report to the chief. "They're together. Catherine was hit on the head with debris but is okay. Gil is fine. Catherine asked if Warrick Brown made it out of the building in time. Gil wants me to tell Sara not to worry, they're in a void and it's holding strong."

While the crowd around the immediate area celebrated the good news, Sara and Warrick flung their arms around each other. "I told you they would be together!" Sara rejoiced. "They're okay…they're really okay."

"I'm glad you were right." The tension in his body melted away along with the thought of having only one survivor. Not only was she safe, the first thing Catherine wanted to know was if he was okay. She loves me as much as I love her and when she's pulled out of that mess, that's the first thing I'm going to tell her.

"Yes! Yes!" Nick paced the area letting the stress work its way out of his body. "They're both okay!" His adrenaline surged into overdrive. "And they're going to be out of there and standing here with us in no time!"

Over the din of the crowd, The Chief replied into his two-way radio. "Tell them Warrick Brown made it out safely and Sara was standing right next to me and heard the message." Turning to the two relieved people in front of him, the chief said, "Time is of the essence, but the morale of the people trapped is critical in rescue operations." Handing Warrick the radio, he said, "You can each give Travis a quick message to relay."

Pressing the button, Warrick said, "Tell Catherine that Lindsay doesn't know anything and ask her if she wants me to keep it that way. And…and tell her I can't wait to see her." With baited breath, he waited for a reply.

When Travis came back on the radio he said, "Catherine says no point in worrying Lindsay because everything is going to be fine, and she wants you to know, you're not just a guest. Now what's the message for Gil?"

Smiling uncontrollably, he passed the radio to Sara, who by now was feeling relieved by the news and very relaxed by the Valium. She blissfully spoke her request. "Tell Gil that I smell like sugar cookies, and that he has unfinished business with me, and that he should use this downtime to rest because he has a busy month ahead of him, and that I love him! Copy?"

"I copy that." Travis replied with a dash of sweetness in his voice.

Nick put his hands on Sara's shoulders. "He'll like hearing that message."

One more time, Travis's voice came through the radio. "Gil says he knows what you mean and he loves you too."

Sara beamed as she handed the radio back to the chief. "What more do I need to hear?"

The chief reclaimed his radio. "Okay, Travis, now quickly get some recon from them…what do they see, where do they think they are, what supplies do they have? Then tell them to hang tight." He motioned for Nick to walk away with him. "Remember what I told you earlier, Stokes. Yes, this is excellent news but remain _cautiously optimistic_ until they are standing in front of you."

Toning down his outrageous grin, Nick nodded. "Understood."

**Media Containment Area  
****12:32 p.m**.

Ana Silva primped for her live shot. "How do I look Ed?"

"Like you should be in movies, Baby, not hanging out in this dumpy dustbowl." She was always more agreeable when he blew smoke up her ass, so he did it frequently.

"Aww…you always know just the right thing to say, Sweetie." Lifting her microphone, she positioned herself.

"In five." He counted her down.

"This is Ana Silva reporting to you live from the scene of the _Harper House Tragedy_. I just received wonderful news that Gil Grissom is alive and well but unfortunately still_ trapped_ at the bottom of that _horrific_ pile of potentially _life-threatening_ rubble. Now that the rescue workers have pinpointed his location, they will painstakingly continue to remove the _dangerous _debris while trying not to unsettle the already _volatile_ pile of _bone crushing_ brick and mortar. My sources tell me that Sara Grissom's spirits are high and she was able to send her husband a _heartfelt_ message. But will this love story have a happy ending? Will they be able to pull Gil Grissom from the perilous pit or will Gil and Sara say their last goodbye via two way radio. Only time will tell. This is Ana Silva reporting for KTBC, Las Vegas' news leader."

Ed shut off the camera. "You're getting a little too over the top, don't you think?"

"Not even close!" She set the microphone down and whispered, "What I need is an exclusive interview with Sara Grissom."

"How are you going to manage that?"

"Give me time, Eduardo." She patted him on the shoulder before heading to the truck to beat the 119 degree heat. "Just give me time."

**Harper House Basement  
****12:35 p.m. **

The microphone removed and the excavation process once again in full swing above them, Catherine and Grissom were cut off from the rest of the world with nothing to do but wait and talk.

"We're going to be out of here by dinnertime," He soothed. Ever since she regained consciousness, Catherine was frantic, but the more out of control she spun, the calmer he forced himself to be. "I know it's hard, but now you _know_ he's fine, Lindsay is being shielded and they have a plan to get us out of here. Try to calm down and save your strength for when we have to climb out." He wouldn't let himself get negative. Not for a moment, because one thought would give way to a hundred and they would all lead to seeing Sara's devastation from being abandoned once more in her life.

Crammed in the small void the iron safe had provided, and surrounded by a ton of rubble, Catherine sat nestled in Grissom's arms letting the last of her tears spill out. "You were right. He made it out." With her filthy hands, she wiped her wet face.

"Of course he hustled it out of here." Trying levity again, he told her, "He kept smacking his head, remember?"

Holding her sore head, she moaned, "He hustled it out of here because he couldn't wait to get away from me."

"Well it's a good thing he was pissed at you then because if he had walked slower he might not have made it and, if he stayed here, there wouldn't have been room for all three of us in this tiny space."

Lowering her head onto his shoulder, she closed her eyes to rest. "You saved my life."

"Now we're even."

"Syd Goggle?"

"Yeah." With the back of his dust covered hand he wiped the sweat building again on his brow and smiled. "It feels good to be your hero for a change. Of course, if you hadn't been knocked unconscious I may not have won the battle."

"I wouldn't have blamed you for intentionally knocking me unconscious at that point."

"No." He shook his head. "Even under those circumstances I couldn't strike a woman."

"Good thing the ceiling did the job." A chill ran through her body as she recalled the tense moment…

_Catherine shrieked as she started for the stairs. _

_Lunging for her wrist, Grissom yelled, "Don't!" _

"_Let go!" Using a standard defense tactic, she was able to yank her arm free. "I have to see if Warrick is hurt!" _

"_Catherine, that noise is the building collapsing above us!" Panicking, he pursued her until he could grab her once more. "Warrick is safe, but we'll be killed if you keep going!" _

_Once more she pulled away. "You can stay but I'm going!" _

"_**Get back here! There is no building above us, and this ceiling is not going to hold!**" As he raced for her, the first piece of ceiling gave way and a beam came swinging down, hitting her in the head and knocking her unconscious. Scooping her up in his arms, he rushed back to the iron safe, curled her body as tightly as possible and covered it with his. _

"You're lucky I'm a California boy who knows how to save his ass in an earthquake."

"My stupidity almost cost you your life, which would have cost Sara her sanity." Groaning, she said, "I would have felt guilty about that while living out my days burning in the eternal hell fire."

"Okay, from this point forward, the only thing allowed is upbeat conversation. If you don't listen to me, I'll assign you the worst jobs for the next month, instead of giving them to Greg." Trying desperately to raise her spirits, he sacrificed himself. "What did you think of that message Sara sent me?"

"Tell Gil that I smell like sugar cookies?"

He knew she'd pick that line apart first. "Want me to fill in the blank?" Maybe playing their little game would perk her up.

"Well I have other stuff to do but, if you insist."

"Now you're starting to sound like yourself."

"Yes, I do want a blank filled. The part of her statement that intrigued me most is that she called you by your first name. She never does that, at least not in front of other people. Does she call you Grissom or Gil when you're alone?"

He should have known that would be her question. "The first time she _ever _called me Gil was during our trip to San Francisco in May and only in front of other people." He gave a light laugh. "It sounded so odd, but at the same time I liked it because it felt much more intimate."

"All those years the two of you were doing the non-relationship dance, she never called you by your first name because she was afraid it would be too personal. Calling you by your last name, gave her distance." Sighing, she said, "But now she's so used to it, she feels weird calling you by your first name. However, since her last name is the now the same as yours, it sounds really screwed up to outsiders."

"You're definitely back to your old analytical self."

"Did you ever ask her to call you Gil instead of Grissom?"

"No," He replied matter of factly, "never."

Slapping her hand on her dirt covered knees, she laughed. "There's the communicatively dysfunctional guy I adore." She laughed again. "Do you _ever _communicate _any_ of your desires to her?"

Lowering his head, he squirmed. "I don't care how desperate I am to cheer you up…we're _not_ talking about my sex life."

"Whatcha gonna do?" She busted him. "Leave the room?"

Shifting ever so slightly, he chuckled, "As tight as this space is, I'm already getting to know you a little more personally than I ever thought I would…don't make it more uncomfortable for me."

"Just wait until one of us has to go to the bathroom," She remarked while cringing at the thought.

"Luckily we're dehydrating, so it may not be a problem."

Circling back to the original question, she teased, "So, _Gil,_ tell me why Sara wanted you to know she smelled like sugar cookies. And for the record, in case you haven't noticed, I call you Grissom when I'm speaking to you professionally or casually and Gil when I'm speaking to you personally, as a friend."

"And you call me _communicatively dysfunctional guy _when I wow you with my interpersonal relationship skills."

Chuckling she said, "You're avoiding the sugar cookie blank."

Exhaling the dusty air from his lungs, he provided the details. "She has this lotion, Vanilla Bean Noel and I love the smell…"

"You know the _name_ of her lotion." Raising her brows, she said, "I'm impressed."

He shrugged and made the next comment strictly for her amusement. "I also know she prefers Tampax Pearl. How's that for getting personal?"

Glancing up at him, she smiled. "They say duress like this will either bring people closer or result in one killing the other."

"Then let's keep sharing because I'm not a murderer and I want to get out of here alive."

"Because you have _unfinished business_ with Sara. I know what she was talking about when she said you have a busy month ahead of you."

After wiping the sweat from his brow once more, he stared straight ahead. "If my face wasn't already hot from the cramped conditions in here, I'd be blushing."

"After almost losing you in here, Sara is going to be hell bent on getting pregnant."

"She wasn't that relaxed about it before," He confessed in an uncharacteristic blurt.

"Feel like making a wager?"

"On her getting pregnant this month?" He shook his head. "I don't want to jinx it."

"Not the bet I had in mind." While rotating her stiff neck, she said, "Hundred bucks says you're not out of here twenty-four hours before Sara asks you to make a deposit at the bank."

"Huh?" He wasn't tracking her.

So she translated. "She's going to ask to keep a battalion of your troops on ice just in case something happens to you before she conceives."

"That's crazy."

"Then take the bet."

"Okay." As soon as he agreed, he started thinking that he just lost a hundred bucks. "You really think she'll do that?"

"For some reason, she's determined to bring a Grissom Jr. into the world." Elbowing her void partner, she grinned. "I don't blame her. The world could use a few more guys like you."

He acknowledged the compliment with silence.

Yawning, she asked, "How many more hours do you think we'll be down here?"

"Hard to say. At least three or four."

"Maybe we should try and sleep."

"No." He nudged her. "You can't go to sleep, you have a head injury. You were unconscious for a couple of hours."

"I'm fine."

"Just to be safe." He grumbled, "I didn't risk my ass saving you to have you die on me."

"Okay, okay." Breathing in the dusty air, she attempted to shift her weight. "Speaking of asses…mine's asleep."

"I stopped feeling mine about an hour ago."

"Uh oh…shouldn't have moved."

Relieved to have her sweaty body a few inches away from his for the first time, he inquired, "Why?"

"Because now I have to pee."

**Harper House Accident Site  
****1:03 p.m. **

While Trey, Nina and Pete took their positions in the crowd to see if the serial killer would really make an appearance, Greg and Warrick got some food from the relief tent.

Nick stayed with Sara who, in a Valium-induced trance, hadn't left her position at the caution tape. "Are you sure you don't want to sit down and put something in your stomach?"

Before she could answer, they were interrupted by a uniformed officer.

"Mr. Stokes, someone named Carrie Blake is at the police line insisting she speak with you."

"Tell her I'll be right there, thanks." Lighting up at the thought of seeing his fiancée, he took Sara by the arm. "Let's go see Carrie and tell her the good news about Grissom and Catherine."

"Okay," she sweetly replied before tripping over her own two feet.

"Steady girl, let me hold your arm."

When Carrie saw Nick and Sara approach, her heart split two ways…aching for Sara and pining for Nick. "How are you, Sara?" She asked as soon as she thought her voice would be heard. "I just heard the update on the news."

"I'm better."

At the yellow tape, Nick informed the officers of the situation. "This lady is with me. I'll be taking her to the relief site for a briefing." Holding up the tape, he took her hand. "You're a sight for weary eyes." In deference, to Sara he restrained his greeting to a simple squeeze of Carrie's left hand. The ring on her finger never looked more beautiful.

Sara, even in her fog, sensed they needed a moment. "Look, a shady tree." She pointed to the right. "I'm going to take five and sit under it while you talk."

Copping a brotherly tone, he ordered, "Stay put under that tree until we come for you."

As soon as he saw her take a seat, he walked Carrie about twenty feet from the tape and, as soon as he was out of earshot of the cops, he blurted, "I love you."

Her eyes watering, she replied, "I love you too, Honey."

"I tried to call you. Cell service out here is sketchy, sometimes you get a signal and sometimes you don't. When I tried a second time I got called away and then…."

"I know you have your hands full." Reaching out, she stroked his sunburned cheek. "All I keep thinking is if the call came in a couple of hours later it would have been Days, not Nights out here and that could be you inside. I mean, I don't want Gil inside…I don't want anyone inside but…"

"I know what you mean." He swallowed the lump he had been holding in his throat. "We've kept it out of the press but he's not alone in there. Catherine is with him."

"Oh god." Her hands flew to her mouth. "Does her daughter know? Is the poor thing here?"

"No." Shaking his head, he explained, "Warrick just talked to her. She's at a softball day camp on the UNLV campus. He told her Grissom is trapped and said that Catherine was too involved in the rescue to call but wanted him to check in on her. She bought it."

"Okay. And how is Sara really?"

"It was pretty bad, Carrie." Recalling the terror in Sara's eyes and her panic attack, he took a couple of steadying breaths. "She has 5mg of Valium in her now, so she'll be calm and happy for a few more hours. And now that we've established contact and know they're okay down there, she's relieved. Of course, we're not out of the woods yet, as the chief keeps reminding me. They still have to get them out of there safely."

"How are you holding up?" She lovingly inquired. "Thanks for asking, but I don't matter right now, I've got too many other people to worry about plus, we're working a case and it's all…"

"When everything works out and you come home, I'll be waiting with open arms."

Touching his fingertips to her chin, he whispered, "And that's exactly where I plan to stay for a good six or seven hours." After taking a moment to appreciate her warm smile, he said, "Before you leave, maybe you could get Sara to sit down in the relief tent and have something to eat."

"Great idea."

They turned to check on Sara.

"Why is she talking to that news reporter on camera?" Carrie asked.

"Good question." Nick hustled over there. "Excuse me, what's going on here?"

"End tape," Ana barked at her cameraman before answering the inquisitive man on the other side of the police tape. "I asked Mrs.Grissom a few questions about her husband, that's all."

"What did you say, Sara?"

"Um…" Turning her eyes toward the clear blue sky, she tried to remember. "I'm not sure."

"She gave permission and it was personal, not relating to the case, so I'm within my rights," Ana announced before strutting away.

Nick rubbed his temples. "Sara and Grissom are so private about their relationship I really hope nothing too much is said on TV."

"Come on, Sara." Carrie slipped her hand around hers. "Let's go have one of our ladies lunches. Plus, I have something special I want to ask you about the wedding."

"Oh…" Sara burst into a smile. "Nick already told me you want me to be a bridesmaid."

Carrie glared at her loose-lipped fiancé. "I'm supposed to do the asking."

"She wasn't supposed to tell you, but I guess the Valium has left her uninhibited." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the news reporter grinning like the cat who ate the canary. "Oh shit."

**Relief Tent  
****1:11 p.m. **

Greg was sitting with Warrick trying to force at least half of a ham sandwich into his stomach when his cell phone rang. After checking the ID he answered, "Hi, Tawny." Usually he would have been at her apartment this morning, like he had been every morning for weeks. He figured she must think he was walking out on her and was calling to scream.

"Are you okay!" She shouted into the phone. "Is Mr. Grissom going to be okay!"

"Oh…you saw it on TV."

"Yes! On the TV in the bar at the Cheesecake Factory. I can only talk for a few minutes 'cause I'm out back on break, but I was so worried I had to call."

"I'm fine and we believe they're going to get Grissom out some time today." The concern in her voice was comforting. "Thanks for thinking of us."

"I'm always thinking about you, Greggy, and Mr. Grissom has been so nice to me, I don't want anything bad to happen to him. He's like you…he doesn't look down at me because I strip."

A crushing pang of guilt tore through him as he remembered his conversation with Grissom…._This will sound horribly shallow, but since we're being honest, she's a stripper who only has her GED._ Yeah…she was good enough to sleep with every day for three weeks, but not good enough for more. He knew in that moment, he couldn't possibly feel scummier.

"And his poor wife…she looked so upset on TV. Everyone at the restaurant is talking about them."

"Wow…Grissom will hate that." Standing up, Greg signaled to Warrick that he would be over in the corner of the tent. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm doing okay. I was scared when I thought you might be hurt because then our baby would never know his father and I'd be doing this on my own instead of with you. I mean, if you decide you can stick with me without knowing..."

"I've decided." Today, with all of its trauma, was the perfect day to grow up. "I'm with you as of this moment." He swore he could hear her smile over the phone. "So don't sweat it anymore, okay?"

"Thanks for trusting me. No guy in my entire life has ever trusted me." She sniffled while continuing to talk. "I was talking to Amber, the girl who dresses like a Robin Red Breast at Tweeters, and she told me I could have an amnio when I hit fourteen weeks and prove the baby is yours. It will cost about a thousand bucks without insurance. Vinnie is letting me work the VIP room every night, so I'll have it in no time especially if we get more of these convention guys in because they…"

"No." Running his fingers through his sweaty hair, he said, "Amnio carries a risk for miscarriage. If something were to happen just because of the test for me…you know, it's not necessary. And working the VIP room…I don't want you dancing while…" His voice cracked from the stress as he gripped the phone tighter. "If you move in with me, you don't have to worry about making rent so you don't have to work at Tweeters anymore…you don't have to strip anymore. Okay? Just pick up more hours at the restaurant to help cover expenses and maybe…"

"I love you, Greg."

Unprepared for her affirmation, he fell speechless.

"I can tell I shouldn't have said that."

Finally over the shock, Greg asked in a shaky voice. "Tawny, why did start stripping?"

"Because, when I was sixteen, I ran away to Vegas with my shitty boyfriend who told me he loved me, but after a few weeks, he left me flat. I couldn't go home and I needed the money so...I know it sounds like every other stupid girl's story on the strip, but it's true."

"Why couldn't you go home?"

After a pause, she whispered, "Because it wasn't safe at home. You know…I can't talk about…uh…actually, my break is over. When you see Mr. Grissom, you tell him I was asking about him."

His eyes closed, he whispered, "Okay."

"Bye."

"Bye." It turns out he was wrong. He could feel scummier. Grissom was right. Tawny did have a story and it was ugly…maybe as ugly as it could get. And while he pondered her words and the sadness in her voice as she said them, he realized he was nothing more than one of many guys who used her along the way. He had used her every day for weeks and _bragged_ about it to the guys. The guilt churned the bites of ham sandwich in his stomach as he remembered his words to Sara yesterday in the lab…_I'm not a bad person_. What an understatement. No…I'm not a bad person, I'm a horrible person! I'm revolting! And in his darkest moment, he remembered more of Grissom's insightful words… _She's at a place a girl ends up when dreams don't pan out. If given the right circumstances and a few breaks from someone who cares, Tawny may be capable of much more than you know._

I have an opportunity…an opportunity to be the first guy who ever did something _for_ her…to be the first guy who ever cared enough to give her a break…and maybe in time, I can be the first guy to ever love her.

**Media Containment Area  
****1:15 p.m**.

Thrilled she snagged an exclusive interview with Sara Grissom, Ana prepped for her four o'clock news teaser shot.

"Ready, Princess?" Ed impatiently asked as he re-tied the wet bandana around his neck. "I'm starting to chafe in this heat."

"I'm set." After smacking her lips together, she lifted the microphone and posed.

"In five." One by one his fingers counted down.

"This is Ana Silva reporting to you live from the scene of the _Harper House Tragedy_. While the rescue team continues their _heroic _efforts to save trapped Crime Scene Investigator Gil Grissom, I had a chance to speak to his wife of only eight days, Sara. As if their story wasn't tragic enough, it gets worse. Here is an excerpt from my interview..."

"Sara, if things don't turn out well today, at least you have years of good memories together, right?"

"Actually it took us _five years_ just to admit we loved each other. For _five years_ we worked side by side longing for one another, but too scared to take a chance on love. Finally, last September…"

"…A love story _five years_ in the making! We'll have the full interview with Sara Grissom coming up at four o'clock. For now, I'm Ana Silva, KTBC, Las Vegas' news leader."

**Crime Lab**

**1:17 p.m. **

From her desk, Betty punched in Theresa's extension then nervously tapped her fingernails on the desk. "I was watching the TV in Mr. Brass's office..."

"Any updates?" Theresa rapidly asked.

"They have an interview with Sara! They just showed a clip." Out of breath from the gossip potential, she said, "They were _secretly in love_ for _five years_ but didn't tell each other!"

"Five years without acting on it!"

"I know!" Betty was amazed by the lengthy relationship time line. "That certainly explains why Mr. Grissom was real moody for years."

"But why do you think he grew the beard a few years back?"

"I don't know, but maybe we'll get the whole story at four o'clock!"

* * *


	8. Chapter 8

**Caving Under Pressure – Part 8**

**Relief Tent  
****1:20 p.m. **

Carrie walked Sara into the tent and plopped her down at a table.

"Oh great," Sara, in her Valium fog, groaned when she saw who was alone at the next table. "Of all the relief tents, in all the world, why did he have to walk into mine? Ugh. Carrie…I'm sitting next to my ex-boyfriend, Hank. His full name is, Hank _how could I forget to mention I had a serious girlfriend_ Peddigrew."

"Uh…" Confused, Carrie smiled at the rescue worker. "Hi, I'm Carrie Blake, Sara's friend."

"Well, unfortunately, Sara's introduction of me is accurate, but I'm also with the rescue team." Pointing at Sara, he asked Carrie, "Could I have a minute here?"

"Is that okay, Sara?"

"Sure, I'm easy," She remarked in an airy voice. Then she cracked up. "But I'd bet, Hanky Panky thinks otherwise!" Slouching in her seat she recalled one occasion in particular…

"_I can't believe you put all that together and figured out the end of the movie," Hank said while swinging Sara's hand and walking to her apartment door. _

"_Well there were so many signs in Signs, it was easy." When they reached her door, she leaned against it. "I mean, you don't have the characters talk about half empty glasses of water, baseball bats and asthma the whole time and not expect them to come into play at the end." _

_Shrugging, he replied, "Well now that the movie is over, I see that." _

"_Despite it being predictable and trite, I enjoyed the symbolism sprinkled throughout." _

"_What symbolism?" _

"_Well, like the whole plot with the aliens was simply a fulcrum to get to the deeper issues of the characters."_

"_Oh." He pondered he statement for a second. "Is that why they didn't bother making the aliens look less cheesy?" _

_Continuing her analysis, she rambled on, "But what I really liked, was the concept of nothing in life being a coincidence. Imagine if every moment, every action, is a part of our fate…guiding us somewhere. And even if we don't really know where we want to be, if we pay attention to the signs around us and realize that **nothing** is an accident, we'll eventually get to where we need to be." _

_**Finally** Hank heard something he could use. "So the fact that we're standing here in front of your apartment door is fate." Stepping closer, he smoothly slipped his arms around her waist. "I guarantee you this is no accident, Baby," he declared in a husky voice before capturing her mouth in a hungry kiss. _

_As always, she was flustered and confused by his affection. Maybe there was a reason Hank was in her life, she mused. Maybe he's here to snap me out of this twisted hold Grissom has on me. Hell, I've been waiting since the day I've moved to Vegas for Grissom to make a move and it's time I realized it's not going to happen…there are no **signs **it's **ever** going to happen. Oh god, Hank's moving his big strong hands under the back of my shirt. It's been **years** since I've been with someone and my body is begging me to finally let this happen. Maybe it's a sign we saw Signs, so that when we came here and stood at my door, I would pay attention to what hunky Hank and my bothered body are telling me. "Uh…do you want to come in?" _

_Hank eyed her with caution. "We've tried this too many times, Sara. I'd rather not come in if you're not going to let me stay." _

"_I...I want you to stay." Shoving her hand in her purse, she fumbled for her keys. _

_Hank wasn't ready to sing the Hallelujah chorus just yet. Every time they got close Sara either balked or was called into work. "You gonna turn off your pager?" He asked as soon as he stepped inside her apartment. _

_The mere mention of her pager sent her careening off course. "Why?" _

_Surprised she had to ask, he guffawed, "So your boss, Grissom, doesn't interrupt us for the twentieth time. He has this knack of paging you every time we get close." _

"_Oh." He had to mention Grissom's name! Ugh! Wait…maybe it's a sign or some kind of symbolism. He's asking me to turn off my pager and the pager represents Grissom…by turning off the pager I'm turning off the idea of Grissom ever giving me the time of day, which he's** never** going to do. I'll finally be accepting the cold hard truth. "Sure, I'll turn it off." Reaching into her purse, she pulled it out and with flair, shut it down." _

"_Finally." Hank was pleased to see she was serious and for once he anticipated not leaving frustrated._

"_Want a beer?" Sara asked with a hint of tension in her voice. A little liquid courage for before the act to ensure the prevention of cold feet! _

"_Sure." He took a seat on the couch and eagerly awaited her arrival. _

"_Here you go." She handed him an Amstel and took a seat next to him. _

_After a few swigs interspersed with suggestive smiles, Hank placed his bottle on the coffee table and then removed Sara's from her hand, setting it next to his. "You look great in that red shirt." _

"_Thanks." As he slid closer she heard her body singing the praises of his large muscular physique. Fully committed to moving forward with her life, she reclined against the couch pillows, ready for him to break the Grissom spell and relieve the pent up sexual frustration which had been building inside of her for years. "That's nice," She whispered as he trailed kisses down her neck._

_Just as Hank was snapping open the button of Sara's Levi's, he heard her cell phone ring. "Don't answer that." _

"_Okay," she breathed out in a heated gasp, while trying desperately not to think about who could be calling. _

_After five rings, the cell phone stopped and Hank knew without a doubt he'd be spending the night. "Baby, I've waited so long for this," He growled in her ear just before her house phone rang. _

"_Stop." Panting, Sara gently pushed him away. "I have to…" _

"_Don't answer it, Sara," He warned. _

"_What if there's an emergency?"_

"_Baby, you work with corpses, what could be urgent?" Grinding his Levi's against hers, he whispered in her ear, "Relax…you're right where you need to be." _

_Unable to block the ringing, she squealed, "**The lab** could have an emergency!" Sliding out from under him, fastening her jeans, she headed to the kitchen. _

"_Dammit!" He smoothed his rumpled hair. "Don't answer it!" _

_Grabbing the cordless, she saw it was Grissom calling from his cell and thought…it's a sign! Hank asked me to turn off my pager, but he didn't tell me to turn off my phones. "Hey, it's Sara, what's going on? Is something wrong?" She turned her back on her ticked off date._

_Stuffing his shirt tails back in his jeans, Hank shook his head. "Unbelievable." _

_When Grissom softly spoke the words she longed to hear... **Sara, I need you with me tonight,** she thought…it's a sign! "I can be there in twenty minutes!" She didn't even care that after his lengthy pause he finished his sentence with… **because I just got another DB and we're tapped**._

_As soon as she hung up, Hank snapped, "I can't believe you! How much am I supposed to put up with, huh? Last month we're having a great time in Pahrump and you make us leave so you can go to work on your **day off**. Then you don't want to see me for a few weeks but tonight you were all excited to go out. At your door I told you not to ask me in if you didn't want me to stay! Make up your mind! I mean what the hell, Sara? I'm all for doing a good job when I'm **on the job,** but you are **always **on the job. You call Grissom back and tell him it's your night off and he needs to find someone else! If he doesn't like it, then remind him you're entitled to have a life outside work!" _

"_I can't do that." Fixing her hair and adjusting her shirt, she replied, "I'm the one he needs, that's why he called." _

"_You have a problem!" Marching for the door he grumbled. "You're a workaholic!" As he walked through the door, he huffed, "I've seen the **signs,** Sara, so I'm walking out the door." _

_Sighing, she picked up her pager from the counter and turned it on. There were no missed pages. That's odd, she thought. Why did Grissom try my cell and my house phone before my pager? It's like he knew how he needed to get to me. Suddenly her lips spread into a smile. **Even if we don't really know where we want to be, if we pay attention to the signs around us and realize that nothing is an accident, we'll eventually get to where we need to be.** Tossing her purse over her shoulder, she grinned and headed for the door. _

"So what is it that you want to say to me, Hank?" Sara relaxed in her seat. "Because you already said you were sorry and didn't know what else to say. Are you going to tell me how your trip to Tahiti was, or how your girlfriend puts out?"

"Uh, she's not my girlfriend anymore." He moved his chair closer. "As of last December, she's my ex-wife."

"Trade her in for a new model?"

"Actually, she traded me in for a guy who doesn't cheat on her. She uh…came home one day and found me in bed with this nurse."

"Shocking!" She replied in her best Jim Brass impression.

"Yeah…you were right about me…I was an asshole. I've turned over a new leaf though, and have been monogamous with my new girlfriend for three months. But that's not what I wanted to discuss." Suddenly he leaned closer. "So, now that I know who your husband is, it's all pretty clear. The whole time we were seeing each other and we kept getting interrupted by Grissom…you were cheating on me. I never suspected that. I mean, I knew you flew out the door every time he called, but I thought you were sucking up to your boss not, _hooking_ up with him. Anyway, it's cool. Not harm, no foul. We're even. Things worked out best for everyone involved. It's like that movie we saw together…Signs…eventually, we all end up where we need to be."

"Whoa." Sara sat staring at Hank's face while having an epiphany. Hank was lying to me about his girlfriend. I was lying to Hank that I wanted a relationship with him when I really wanted one with Grissom. Grissom wasn't telling me his true feelings and was constantly yanking me by the tight leash he kept me on. Wow. Hank's girlfriend was the only non-warped one in the bunch. "I wascheating on you, Hank! Well…I was _mentally_ cheating on you! Because I wasn't having sex with either of you, so it's not the same kind of cheating you did. But I bet if I did have sex with you back then, I would have been thinking about Grissom, which would have been dishonest, not to mention creepy. Wow…this has been very enlightening."

Carrie returned with an apple and a bottle of cold water. "How we doing?" Sara looked truly blissed out, which seemed odd considering she was conversing with her rat-bastard ex-boyfriend while her husband was trapped under a pile of rubble. Then she remembered the effects of the Valium.

"We're great!" Hank stood up smiling. "Sara, don't you worry about Grissom and Catherine, we'll have them out in no time."

**Harper House Basement  
****2:15 p.m.**

As Catherine placed her balled up coveralls behind her head, she grumbled, "Really the only time I ever want to be a man is when I have to pee and there isn't a bathroom. You guys can just unzip, whip out the one-eyed wonder and piss three feet away."

"It is one of the many perks," He replied with his face still in his hands.

"You can look now. I'm done and the evidence has been tossed." Stripped down to her tank shirt and khakis and sporting an empty bladder, she felt a lot more comfortable. "Nice job spying that old tin can just outside our little nest."

He lifted his head. "I noticed it sticking out when we were giving recon to the rescue guy."

"What are you staring at?"

"I'm still amazed you got out of those coveralls off with so little space to maneuver."

She laughed. "Honey, I used to make a living getting out of my clothes efficiently. I'm a pro."

"I always say every past experience will come in handy one day." He laughed with her.

"If you want, I can help you get your coveralls off." She snickered, "I've got plenty of experience in that area as well. One time I got a three piece suit off a man in a bathroom stall without wrinkling it."

After gaping at her for a minute, he calmly replied, "I'm fine, thanks."

Laughing harder she said, "Okay then, mind if I ask your opinion on something?"

"As luck would have it, I'm available for consult."

"Do you think I'm too domineering with men?" Pushing her sweaty hair off her face, she continued her train of thought. "I think Warrick may think I'm too controlling. You remember Lady Heather, right? We processed a case at her domination dominion a few years back."

After wondering_, if I had more wanton sex over the years, would I be hearing all those women's names constantly referenced, or is there just something about this one woman that makes people keep bringing her up?_ He nonchalantly answered, "Ah…vaguely…yes, I remember her."

"She told me I would make a fantastic dominatrix."

"Well…I'd take whatever she says with a grain of salt." Because she told me a few things that night that I _know_ were exaggerations!

"I think I'm too domineering with Warrick." She released a guilt-laden sigh. "It doesn't help that he moved into _my_ house. On the way to work, he told me he feels like a guest. And then there's his relationship with Lindsay. I love him helping me with her but whenever he disagrees with me or sides with her, I kind of yank the rug out from under him and tell him he's not her parent." Glancing over at Grissom, she whined, "I'm a self-centered, domineering bitch who has emasculated her man."

Not sure what to do with_ any_ of that information, he said, "You expect _me _to help you with a relationship problem?"

"You're the only person here and you're a guy. Surely you can relate to the ego portion of the issue." She rolled her eyes. "I _know _you have an ego."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh like you don't like being 'top lab guy' or 'top bug guy' or 'on top of Sara guy'." She laughed. "Sorry…couldn't resist adding that last part. Seven hours and I'm getting punchy. It's all true though…you act casual about all those things, but they all pump your ego. Ever since this whole marriage scandal broke you've been walking taller down the halls at work. You love the whole _I've got a pretty young thing who adores me angle_ and don't try to deny it."

"Is there a specific question you were going to ask me?" He droned.

"What can I do to help Warrick feel more equal in the relationship! I've got the house, the stash in the bank, the kid, the seniority at work…it's all stacked against him. Any ideas other than marriage, because I'm never going down that road again?"

Thinking like a man who likes to fix problems, he stated the obvious. "Sell the house and buy a new one together. That way, no one is a guest."

"But how do we handle the money without him feeling awkward and making things worse? Obviously I have more in the bank thanks to Sam."

"As long as Warrick contributes, I don't think you have to focus on the percentages to feel equal."

"How much did Sara contribute when you guys bought the house?"

"A dollar." He laughed at the memory…

_Sitting in the realtor's office with the contract in front of her, Sara glanced over at the agent. "I'm sorry, but would you mind stepping out for a moment?" _

"_Certainly." The woman quickly left her office and shut the door. _

"_What's wrong?" Grissom asked, with concern building on his face. Was she getting second thoughts about living together? _

"_I feel weird that my name is on the contract when I haven't contributed any money. It's really just **your **house, not ours." _

"_Oh." Relieved she wasn't backing out, he ordered, "Grab your wallet." _

_Not sure why he was asking, she obliged. _

"_How much cash do you have?" _

_Yanking it open, she saw she only had a dollar. "A buck." She pulled it out and waved it. _

_After snatching it from her hand, he smiled, "Thank you for the contribution to the house fund." He handed her a pen. "Now start signing because I can't wait to live with you in** our** house." _

_Taking the pen, she leaned in for a kiss. "Thank you." _

The happy memory triggered his emotions. And now that he wasn't preoccupied with calming Catherine down, he started slipping. "I can't wait to hold her," He softly said as he closed his eyes and rested his head against the safe. "I can't wait to go home with her. I…"

Catherine placed her hand on his knee. "Hang in. It won't be much longer." Then trying to pull him back from the brink, she said, "Hey, what kind of bug is that over there? Looks pretty creepy."

His eyes snapped open and searched the area. "Where?"

"Made you look!"

**At the Police Tape  
****2:32 p.m. **

From his position in the crowd, Pete finally saw someone who fit the standard serial killer profile…white male, 20-30's, loner-fringe type. Since they had such limited case information it was the best place to start. And after two hours of waiting, he was grateful to have anything to check out.

He knew the killer had a penchant for prostitutes and took great care in symbolically bringing them to the old brothel. Quite possibly he was a goal-oriented killer, someone who thought they were doing the world a favor by getting rid of the immoral. Like Sara said, the killer didn't want to get caught…he had a purpose, and now he would be irritated that his mission was interrupted.

As Pete approached, he noted the man looked about twenty-six, stood at five-nine and wore a black t-shirt with Lucky Bucky's Shirt Shop printed on the back. "Hey," Pete acknowledged the guy. "Pretty screwed up that a building just collapses one day, huh?"

"Yeah." He continued to intensely stare straight ahead. "They said a woman drove her truck through the wall. How stupid do you have to be to drive your truck into a two-story brick building? That building stood for seventy years until she came along. I bet she's a real brainless bitch."

"Probably." Pete opened his mental notebook and jotted…knows the building details, hostility toward a woman he doesn't know and hasn't impacted him personally. "I couldn't help but notice the logo on your shirt. You work there at Lucky Bucky's?"

"Yeah."

Pete's eyes gravitated toward the ground and the man's boots…could be a perfect match. "Where's the shop?"

"Fremont and sixth."

"Bet you see a lot of drunks and hookers working over there."

"All the worst, all the time." The man finally turned to look at his fellow bystander. "This building used to be a whore house."

"Really?" Pete feigned ignorance.

"They used to keep them in buildings but nowadays the whores troll the streets."

Pete glanced through the crowd to Nina and scratched his ear…their agreed upon signal. "I like your boots. I need a new pair. What kind are they?"

"Doc Martens…Black Eros."

Perfect match! "Do they have good tread?"

"Yeah." The guy lifted his foot and showed off the bottom. "I've had them for a while, but you can't tell."

"Looks like you got something on the boot though…what is that?"

"What?" He glanced down.

"Looks like blood." Pete let his eyes rest on the guy's. "Cut yourself with a box cutter at the T-shirt shop?"

"Why do you care?" The man's eyes narrowed.

He knew he hit a nerve. "Awful hot to be wearing a black T-shirt when you're planning to stand outside and watch a rescue operation. Maybe you weren't planning on coming out here. Maybe you rushed out here. Why did you come out here?"

"Are you a cop?"

"No." Pete smiled. "You have a problem with cops? Bad place to have a problem with cops, because there are so many around. I mean if a guy did something wrong…or suddenly felt the need to escape he would really be in the wrong place if he were here."

"Who the hell are you?" He barked.

"A guy in the crowd." Pete kept pushing. "A guy who is wondering if maybe that's not_ your _blood on that boot. That black shirt is hot isn't it because you're really starting to sweat. That is why you're sweating, right? It wouldn't be because you have a secret and you're afraid I know what it is. Wait…I think that could be it because now you're not only sweating, you're breathing harder. Is it getting hotter out here or are you getting more nervous. Which is it? Whose blood is on your boot? Is it yours or could it belong to a Fremont Street hooker?"

Suddenly the guy shoved Pete aside and bolted.

"He's on the move!" Shouted Pete as he took off after him.

Racing through the crowd, the suspect knocked a woman to the ground in his haste to escape. "Out of my way, Bitch!"

In a flash, six uniform cops swooped in restraining the man to ask him why he was running and mowing people down at a crime scene.

Nina and Trey rushed to Pete's side. "Think that's him?" Nina asked in a hopeful tone.

"I'll be shocked if it's not." Pete shook his head as he watched the cops lead the suspect away for what he assumed was at a minimum, disorderly conduct. "Unbelievable. Nina, while Trey and I head back to the station to work this, you tell Sara what's going down. I'll call you and keep you updated."

"Got it."

**Rescue Operation Command Tent  
****2:46 p.m. **

The Commander called for an emergency briefing minutes ago and now that the dozen required personnel had assembled, he began disseminating information.

Nick, invited as the CSI in command, brought Sara and Warrick along so they could hear the news first hand.

"As of 2:40 p.m., we've suspended overhead debris removal."

"What?" Sara blurted before Nick could cover her mouth.

He sternly warned her. "No talking, remember."

"Sorry, Commander."

After flashing a warning glare, he resumed his briefing. "We've suspended debris removal because we feel it is no longer necessary. We were able to insert a fiber optic camera through a large void that was unearthed and from the pictures we reviewed, we think we see a decent path to the trapped CSIs."

Sara grabbed Warrick's arm and hoped for more good news.

"Because of the limitations of the equipment, we can only see two-thirds of the distance but we believe we have a good shot of manual extrication." He pointed to the Chief. "Take over."

"While we continue to shore the site, we'll send in our extrication specialist to check the path and manually create clearance." He pointed to Hank. "I need you to gear up."

Without a word, Hank left the tent to don the necessary equipment.

"I have our communications specialist conveying the plan to the CSIs, so they will be prepared to move if Hank is able to reach them. If this plan doesn't pan out, we'll proceed with a manual dig until we achieve the necessary clearance. That's it for the high level details and now I'll meet with each task leader."

Nick led the way out of the tent with Sara and Warrick right behind him.

"So now we have to hope there really is a decent path," Warrick stated while trying not to get too carried away. "And that it's big enough for them to fit through without requiring too much digging because digging can cause a further cave in."

Sara answered in an upbeat tone. "Catherine will definitely be small enough, and if Hank can fit on the way in, then Grissom can fit on the way out, because Hank's shoulders are broader and he's three inches taller."

Nick gasped and froze in his tracks. "Good thing Grissom didn't hear you say that. No guy wants to be physically compared to his woman's ex."

Warrick winced. "Hell no."

Sara glanced up at him. "Oh please, like you ever had to worry about feeling small."

Nick and Warrick stood stunned.

"What!" Then Sara realized they misunderstood. "I was referring to _height_."

Happy to find them all together, Nina hustled over to the group. "Just the people I needed to see."

They turned and were shocked to see Nina _smiling_.

"We have a suspect in police custody," She excitedly reported. "Sara, looks like your hunch might be right. Pete and Trey are heading back to the station to help question and hopefully, once we get a warrant, process the guy's boots and his residence. He'll call me when he has updates."

Nick beamed with pride. "Excellent work." Finally his team was coming together. "Keep me posted as you get information."

Psyched that they could have a suspect in custody, Sara said, "I can't wait to tell Grissom that I set this in motion."

"Look at you…**still **trying to prove you're the best CSI to Grissom." Then Warrick reminded the group, "Our vics are no longer available to us so it's going to be harder to nail him."

Nick countered, "Because it's a triple homicide, after Gris and Catherine are rescued, they'll switch focus to completing the dig and recovering the evidence."

The chief's bullhorn squawked and grabbed their attention. "We're moving in fifteen."

Warrick glanced over at Sara. "Home stretch." Although he was painfully aware it was also the most dangerous part of the operation, he felt a current of optimism running through him.

Nick checked his watch. "There's something I have to take care of quickly. I'll be back before they start." Without further explanation, he took off.

**Media Containment Area**

When he reached the KTBC news van, Nick pounded on the window.

"What the?" Ana dropped her Cosmopolitan magazine and opened the door. "What's with the pounding, caveman? Oh, it's you."

In a sharp tone, he replied, "A little while ago I got a call that you're running tape of Sara at four. The snippet you already showed contained very personal information. How much more do you have?"

Grinning she said, "The wife waxed nostalgic a few times. Like I told you before, I got her agreeing to talk to me on tape, so I'm in the clear."

"You people really love capitalizing on other people's trauma."

"It's called a human interest story." She tossed her wavy black hair off her shoulder. "And if they're interested, it's my job to give them details. Besides, it's not like she said anything bad. She just gushed like a school girl."

Which was exactly what Nick was afraid of, so he took a different approach. "How about this? You lose that tape and I promise you an exclusive after the rescue."

Her ears perked. "An exclusive?"

"Because let me tell you…there's something about this rescue operation you don't know, and it has a great human interest angle and if you get it first…." He flashed her a Texas Longhorn smile. "…you'll be the envy of every one of these news hacks."

Extending her hand, she said, "I'll kill the Sara tape."

Nick accepted the deal. "You'll get your exclusive."

"Nice doing business with you, Cowboy." Ana winked. "Maybe sometime we could do a little pleasure?"

"Thank ya, ma'am but…sorry." He replied in a drawl as he backed away. "I've already got me the most wonderful gal in the world."

**Harper House Accident Site  
****3:15 p.m.**

As they had done many times throughout the day, Nick, Sara, Warrick, Greg and Nina lined up at the caution tape and fixed their eyes on the pile of rubble and debris. Unlike the first time, the pit wasn't overflowing, it was significantly cleared, and instead of a crane lifting something out, Hank Peddigrew was climbing in.

So they could listen to the operation, the chief had given Nick a radio for the group. "You guys hearing okay?"

They nodded in silence and kept their eyes planted on the scene.

The effects of the Valium starting to wear off, Sara felt her body tense for the first time in hours. "How long do you think this will take?"

Before anyone answered, over the radio they heard Hank and quieted to listen to the exchange.

"How's the visual? Over."

"Looking good. Over."

"I'm moving forward. Over."

**Harper House Basement  
****3:20 p.m.**

Having been briefed through the two-way microphone, Grissom and Catherine knew help was on the way. Although they had been trapped for over eight hours, these minutes since the briefing felt exponentially longer.

When he saw Catherine getting antsy, Grissom urged, "Remember, this part can be very dangerous. You need to promise me you're not going to pull another stunt like you did when you were trying to rush up the stairs as the ceiling was collapsing. We're not going to be running out of here, understand? You'll have to go slow."

"Yes, yes, I know."

He continued the lecture. "Because this time, you won't only be jeopardizing our lives, you'll be putting the life of the rescue worker on the line."

"Didn't I already give you my word?" She snapped while knowing he was justified. "Sorry…I'm getting edgy."

"By you snapping at me and telling me you're edgy, aren't you making my point?"

A smile found her lips. "You sound like Warrick."

"Then I can confidently say, Warrick sounds like a very rational guy."

**Harper House Accident Site**

**3:25 p.m. **

Sara's fingers curled around the caution tape blowing in the hot breeze in front of her. "Do you think we're getting weather?"

Nick checked the sky. "I don't think the storm will hit until they're out." Summer storms weren't daily occurrences but when they hit, they hit with a vengeance…high winds, torrential rains and deadly lightening.

Finally they heard some chatter between Hank and the chief.

"I need some more slack on the safety line. Over."

"Copy that. Try it now. Over.

"Moving forward. I've got a heat source straight ahead but I'm blocked. What's the distance? Over"

"Monitor shows five feet between your transmitter and the heat source. Over."

"I'm establishing communications. Will confirm when complete and provide an update. Over."

**Harper House Basement  
****3:30 p.m**.

"I definitely hear something, "Catherine stated. "The guy is getting close."

A second later a probe slipped through one of the cracks in the rubble encasing them.

"Grissom and Catherine…I've got you on visual. Now confirm…can you hear me?"

"Yes," They both answered.

"Excellent. You're looking good in there. This is Hank Peddigrew, by the way." Through the wonders of fiber optic visual equipment, he was treated to watching their reaction.

Catherine and Grissom exchanged dumbfounded glances and then Catherine said, "Sara's cheating bastard of an ex-boyfriend is saving our asses? I love it! You only see this stuff happening on TV!"

"I heard that," Hank reminded her as he surveyed the situation from his side. "Don't worry, Sara and I had a talk earlier today and we're cool."

Grissom finally spoke. "Here's something I never thought I'd say. I'm happy to have you around, Hank."

They heard him chuckle through the microphone and then say, "I look forward to laughing more about this later but, right now I need you to move as far to your left as possible. I have to clear some debris. I'll re-establish communications as soon as I'm done."

Catherine quipped, "We'll be here."

**Harper House Accident Site**

**3:45 p.m**.

Warrick checked his watch. "It's been a half hour since they started this."

Nick focused on the pit. "It takes more time to clear a path and get them out than it does to guide them out. The hardest part is done. Hang in."

"So it shouldn't be much longer!" Sara tapped Nina on the shoulder. "Can I have some more of that hand sanitizer?"

"Sure." Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the travel size bottle. "Keep it."

"Send in my back up because we're ready to move it out. Over."

"Copy that. Scott is following your safety line right now. Over."

"We're so close!" Sara screeched as she rubbed the sugar cookie scented gel on her forearms.

Nick threw his arm around her shoulder. "Minutes, Sara, minutes." And while he was holding her he asked, "What's that stuff you're wearing? Damn that smells good."

**Harper House Basement  
****3:48 p.m. **

As Hank finished securing the neck brace on Catherine, she grumped for the third time, "I really don't need this. I'm fine."

"It's protocol for a closed head injury."

Grissom shook his head. "Catherine…you really are too controlling. He's a trained rescue worker and you're telling him what to do."

Hank chuckled, "It's amazing that she's survived working for you because, as I remember it, every time you said jump, Sara said how high."

Catherine couldn't let that one go. "Yeah well…Sara had a different agenda than me. I definitely wear the pants in my relationship with Grissom."

Scott, Hank's equally cocky partner, showed up in the cleared pathway. "Nice rabbit hole you cleared, Peddigrew. Almost as good as what I would have done."

"And now you get to lead the way and get the glory," Hank quipped. "Cause I'll be leading the feisty Ms. Willows up last to make sure she doesn't get out of control."

Grissom grimaced. "She has to go before me."

"Chivalry, while not dead, isn't always the best option in a rescue operation," Hank explained. "You are uninjured, so Scott leads you up and out quick. Catherine needs to go slower. If she knows you're behind her waiting to get out and see Sara, she'll want to rush. Besides, we've already established she's impulsive and controlling. Once Scott has you to the top, he comes back down and he and I will flank her, making it impossible for her to go faster than we allow."

Catherine snipped, "I'm right here while you're talking about me."

"I really don't feel right about leaving her here while I get out," Grissom countered.

"Now who is the control freak? To use your own words…I'm a trained rescue worker and you're telling me what to do?" He pointed at Scott waiting in the cleared space and smiled. "I'm the boss today and I say get moving, Grissom. Or, do you want me to tell Sara that you didn't rush out of here to see her when given the chance?"

As Grissom climbed through the opening to get to Scott, he said, "Catherine, I'll tell Warrick you're on your way."

**Harper House Accident Site  
****3:55 p.m. **

With his hands firmly planted on Sara's shoulders, Nick said, "Don't even think about running past this tape when you see them. You're still a little loopy from that pill and might fall in the hole."

"It would be typical for Grissom and I...story of our life…stuck in two different places when we want to be together."

When they saw Scott pop up out of the void and extend his hand, the group gasped with excitement.

"It's Grissom!" Nick shouted first. "Steady girl," He warned as he felt Sara getting ready to bolt. "For once you can let him come to you!"

"He's really okay." Her voice cracked with disbelief as she saw him being assisted up the ladder and out of the pit. By the time he reached the top, her tears of happiness were flowing, and when he turned toward the crowd, she lifted her trembling hand and mouthed, _I'm right here._

Sore, dehydrated and covered in dust, Grissom, with the help of an EMT, slowly made his way to the tape and to the open arms of his emotional wife. As he approached, he sweetly asked, "Are you sure about want me in your arms, because I'm sweaty and filthy."

The rest of the gang and the EMT let them have their moment, and turned their attention back to the rescue area.

Sara answered the question by lunging for Grissom and throwing her arms around his neck. "I knew we weren't done yet. I knew it!"

"Not even close." Closing his eyes, he gripped her tight. "You really do smell like sugar cookies. I love that smell. I love you."

"There's Catherine!" Warrick exclaimed while grabbing his cell phone to dial up Lindsay because he knew it was the first thing Catherine would want to do. Ignoring Nick's advice to Sara, he went under the tape to meet her at the top of the pit.

Sara softly caressed Grissom's dirty face. "You could really use a bubble bath," she joked through her tears.

"They're making me go to the hospital first for fluids but, as soon as we're home, I'm there." He steadied himself by holding onto her shoulder.

Nick handed Grissom a bottle of water. "You must be thirsty. And you look like you're going to fall over, so let's get you to the ambulance."

"Yeah." He slugged down half the bottle as Nick and Sara helped him the fifty yards.

Meanwhile, Warrick raced to Catherine's side and once there, despite her wearing a neck brace, he lifted her off the ground, into his arms. "I'm not going anywhere, Baby. We'll work it all out because I love you, and there's no place I'd rather be than with you."

"I love you too and I'm sorry for being such a domineering bitch." Moved by the reunion, Catherine started to well up. "I'm selling my house so we can get a place that's ours."

Surrounded by rescue workers and a couple of EMTs standing next to a stretcher covered in a backboard, Warrick smiled, "I think maybe we should discuss the details later." He returned her feet to the ground and helped her over to the EMTs.

Once she was settled, Warrick held up his cellphone. "I have someone on the line for you."

In a full cry, she took the call. "Lindsay…I love you sweetie…I didn't want you to know until I was out but mommy was in the accident with Grissom, but don't worry, I'm fine." Taking Warrick's hand, she said, "We're all fine. I have to go to the hospital to get checked and I'll see you there. And before you ask…no, this experience did not change my mind about the camping trip."

As they approached the ambulance, Sara informed her exhausted husband, "You are going to get seriously pampered for the next twenty-four hours."

Nick jumped right in. "When you were trapped, Sara said she would be so happy to see you when you got out that she'd cook you a hamburger. You may want to hold her to that." He winked at Sara. "You do remember that, right?"

Grissom smiled, "Don't worry, Honey, it can be a vegetarian hamburger."

The EMT who had accompanied them jumped in the back of the ambulance. "Right this way." He helped Nick get Grissom inside and eased him onto the stretcher. "The wife can come along for the ride."

Sara leapt at the chance and flew to her husband's side. Taking his hand she said, "If we survived this, I know we can survive anything that comes our way!"

_

* * *

The story continues in: Repercussions - The 3rd series of Feasibility Study _

_Thanks,_

_Maggs _


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